


say you will

by Shadowcrawler



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Autism Spectrum, Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Bisexual Female Character, Breaking Up & Making Up, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Christmas, Cunnilingus, F/F, Femslash, Fix-It, Flashbacks, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Male-Female Friendship, Multi, Polyamory, Pregnancy, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-16 00:36:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 45,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21027365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowcrawler/pseuds/Shadowcrawler
Summary: Natasha and Laura have a history.or: Clint goes over the edge, and they have to figure out what comes next.





	1. in the stillness of remembering what you had

**Author's Note:**

> I started working on this in, uh, early May. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> This is my attempt to make Natasha's character arc make sense, in a way that doesn't involve her dying for bullshit reasons. (As my friend Amy puts it: GIVE NATASHA A WIFE AND KIDS.) It is also my tribute to Nat, because she's been so important to me for the last nine years, and a celebration of Laura Barton, who has been shit on by both canon and fandom. They both deserve better.
> 
> I spent about a week trying to make the timeline work with Natasha's canon age, and ended up making her about 19 when she first meets Laura (who is 24). Just a disclaimer, in case you're hyperconscious about age gaps like I am.
> 
> Oh, and I only saw Endgame once and I don't really care if I messed any of the details up, because fuck that movie. :)

**July 2023**

Natasha wakes up alone.

She blinks. She’s submerged in a pool of water, but she’s not wet. It takes her a moment to remember what happened - to remember arguing with Barton, throwing herself over the edge, then him tumbling after her, and her last desperate attempt with the arrow to try and save him, to try and _ stop _ him…

She doesn’t need to see the tiny orange stone nestled in her palm, glowing like a miniature sun, to know she failed. It’s there anyway. 

She doesn’t let herself cry. There isn’t time; she needs to get the Soul Stone back to the others. She just lets the knowledge that he’s gone settle into her body, her bones, creeping slowly like frost across glass. 

When she returns, her friends are beaming, triumphant, exhausted, but assured of their victory. Until they see her. “Shit,” Rhodey says, eyes wide. “What happened?”

Natasha tells them in as few words as possible. She leans her weight against Steve, who’s the closest, and he lets her. No one seems to know what to do, until finally Tony draws himself up and says, “Well, are we gonna do this or not?”

When it comes time to use the gauntlet, she steps forward and says, “It should be me. _ It should have been me. _”

“No, no, don’t be stupid, Romanov,” Tony says, in his infuriating way. “It should be me. I’m the one who built it, after all.”

“Nope,” Bruce says. “It’s gotta be me. That’s gamma radiation, I’ve already got a bunch of that coursing through my veins. What’s a little more gonna do to me?” He sounds so resolute, so determined, that for a single instant some tiny part of herself remembers what they could have had. In another life, maybe. 

Everyone seems too exhausted to fight him on it, Natasha included, and as he screams through the pain of the stones burning his arm and manages to snap his fingers, Natasha prays to every god she never had the luxury of believing in that this works. 

The world is silent for an eternity. Then, finally, someone’s phone rings. 

“Whose phone is that?” Steve asks, and a cold certainty seizes Natasha. She goes to answer it.

“Clint?” Laura’s voice is warm, but puzzled, like Clint was supposed to pick her up from town but forgot again. “Hon, what’s going on? Where’d you go?”

\---

**December 2002**

When Clint asks her what she’s doing for the holidays, Natasha just stares at him.

“Y’know, Christmas?” he prompts. “Hanukkah? Solstice? Festivus?”

“I’ve heard of them,” she agrees. “Except that last one. Not sure what the hell that is.”

He sighs. “It’s a Seinfeld joke. Look, don’t tell me you don’t do holidays.”

“Would that really surprise you, Barton?”

“Don’t answer my question with a question, god, that’s so annoying. Seriously, it’s gonna be a ghost town here on Wednesday and probably the rest of the week too. Don’t you have any plans? Besides holing up in your bunk and reading _ Crime and Punishment _ or whatever.”

She snorts. “Is that seriously what you think Russians do in our free time?”

“C’mon, Nat. Stop dodging the question.”

He’s like a dog who knows there’s a treat hidden in her pocket, and she’s running out of toys to distract him with. She sighs and says, “Holidays are just humanity’s attempts to assign significance to arbitrary days in order to stave off existential despair.” 

“Nat, seriously. No plans? Because I have something to ask you.”

“Oh, Barton, I’m flattered but I think SHIELD frowns on relationships between agents.”

“You’re impossible,” he groans. “Look, I’m trying to ask you to come home for Christmas with me. Take the Thursday and Friday off, nothing’s gonna be going on around here anyway. You can see my farm and meet my wife. I’ve told Laura so much about you, she’s dying to meet you. And no one should be alone on Christmas, seriously.”

Natasha bristles. The idea of Clint talking about her to anyone, even his wife, makes her wary. “Don’t you two have plans?”

“Not really. Laura’s making Christmas lasagna and we’ll probably throw on _ It’s a Wonderful Life _ at some point, but we’re not planning on going anywhere or seeing anybody. Please?” He pouts like a child asking for candy. “I promise you’ll love her lasagna.”

“Will I?” She doesn’t give him the smile he clearly wants, but her lips twitch.

“Guaranteed,” he says. “Or your money back!”

“I’m not paying you anything, Clint.” Part of her is amused that he cares so much. Part of her wants to run. But this is Clint, and not only is he a persistent asshole, he’s done nothing over the last eight months to shake her trust in him. So after a moment of silence, she nods and says, “Fine. I’ll come home with you for Christmas. But I’m not getting you anything.”

“You don’t have to!” he says, beaming. “Laura’s gonna be so excited!”

A week and a half later, she’s in the front seat of Barton’s truck, watching the scenery go by and trying to ignore his supremely awful “singing.” “I play my part and you play your gaaaame, yooooooou give loooooooove a bad name!”

“Don’t quit your day job,” she teases after the song ends. 

“Hey!” He shoots her a hurt look. “No need to be mean.”

“Not mean, honest.” She closes her eyes and lets herself settle back into the seat. 

Clint’s farmhouse is almost unbearably quaint. It’s the kind of picture that comes up when you think of a “farmhouse”: two stories, cream paint with a faded green roof, an American flag waving on the porch, and matching green shutters on all the windows. Natasha catches a glimpse of the slightly sagging but still functional barn a few hundred yards behind it, snow dusting the roof. A chestnut horse in the field, wearing a plaid blanket, raises its head to watch as the truck approaches, then goes back to grazing. 

“Aw,” she coos. “Look at you, all wholesome rural Americana.”

Clint snorts. “Yeah, we do our best. That’s Pete,” he says, nodding at the horse as they drive by. “He’s dumb as a post, but he can pull the hay cart, which is all we need. You ever ridden a horse?”

“No,” Natasha says. “Why would you think that I’ve ever ridden a horse?”

“Dunno. You can if you want. Pete’s dumb, but he’s good for beginners ‘cause he never spooks at anything.” Clint steers the trunk into a vaguely truck-shaped patch of dirt in front of the house and parks it. “C’mon, let’s get inside. Laura’s probably started dinner already.”

Clint turns the knob and opens the front door - which means they leave it unlocked, her brain tells her before she swats that impulse away - and calls “Hey honey, we’re here!” as he steps inside. Natasha, taking a defensive crouch out of habit, follows him. 

A young brunette woman comes around the corner and throws her arms around Clint, kissing him. “Hi,” she says once they break apart. “Missed you.”

“Missed you,” he murmurs, resting his forehead against hers. Then he leans back and glances at Natasha. “Laura, this is Natasha. Natasha, my wife Laura.”

Laura turns to Natasha and smiles at her. Natasha opens her mouth intending to say something sarcastic like “no, I figured this was your maid,” but instead she croaks, “Hi.” A strange feeling is twisting its way through her, something she’s not sure how to name. Laura has beautiful warm brown eyes and the kindest smile Natasha’s ever seen. 

“Hi,” Laura says, coming over to her as if to hug her, then pausing. “Oh, wait, would you like a hug? I’m a hugger, but no pressure.” She offers her hand instead. “Handshake?”

Natasha blinks. No one’s ever asked her if she wants a hug. They’ve just...either hugged her or not. “I can hug,” she says, feeling weirdly stiff as she puts her arms around Laura. 

Laura gives her a quick squeeze and then steps back. “It’s so good to meet you,” she says. “Clint’s told me so much about you.”

“Has he?” Natasha glances over at Clint, who has the decency to look sheepish. “What’s he said?”

“All good things,” Laura promises, her smile brilliant. “How you’ve saved his ass half a dozen times already, how you’re the best brawler he’s ever seen, how you’re a huge pain in his ass but he wouldn’t have a better partner.”

“Wow,” Natasha says, smirking at Clint. “Careful, Barton, people might think you like me or something.”

“She’s allergic to feelings,” Clint explains to Laura, which makes Natasha roll her eyes. 

“I’m not allergic. They’re just pointless.”

Laura nods. “I understand that. It’s hard for Mr. Softie here to comprehend, I think.” She reaches over to ruffle his hair. “He has every feeling.”

“Babe, stop ruining my cool tough guy agent image,” Clint whines playfully, twisting away from her hand before grabbing her for another kiss.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Natasha deadpans. 

Laura giggles, kissing Clint and then winking at Natasha. “You might have the right idea, Natasha. All husbands do is pretend they’re cooler than they are.” Clint makes an offended noise and she kisses him as if in apology.

It should bother Natasha, watching her coworker act like this with his wife. Public displays of affection make her uncomfortable and she’s never sure how to react. (Then again, how “public” is this, in their own home?) Oddly, watching them together makes that weird feeling twist through her again. She glances at the floor, feeling suddenly like Laura is the sun and she shouldn’t be staring at her.

“Sorry,” Laura says, when she notices Natasha’s discomfort. “Got carried away. Really rude of me. Do you want anything to drink? There’s only a couple minutes left on the food, you and Clint can probably sit at the table if you want. We’ve got water, juice, beer, probably a bottle of wine somewhere - you’re old enough to drink, aren’t you?” 

Point of fact, Natasha’s not sure exactly how old she is, but she shrugs and says, “I’m Russian, we start early.” That makes Laura laugh, and the warm feeling grows.

Soon enough, they’re all seated and digging into their steak and potatoes. Clint’s telling Laura a story about some of the younger agents’ attempted pranks on Fury and how it backfired when his cat scared the shit out of them. Laura’s laughing so hard tears roll down her face, and Natasha’s heart knocks against her chest. She ignores it and takes a second helping of potatoes.

Before they all go to bed, Laura takes Natasha into the living room and gestures to the three stockings hanging above the fireplace. “Sorry, yours was a last-minute purchase so it’s not that personalized. Mostly gift cards and candy. I hope you like candy? We can get other candy if you don’t like that candy. It’s mostly chocolate anyway. I just didn’t want you to-”

“No!” Natasha says, then regrets it when Laura looks startled. “Sorry, I just...this is really nice, Laura. Thank you. Don’t worry about it, this is more of a Christmas than I’ve ever had before.” She doesn’t mean it in a sad way, it’s just a fact.

But Laura gives her a look like she’s just said her dog died and says, “You’re always welcome for Christmas here, okay?”

“Thank you,” Natasha says again, and even though she’s unable to comprehend it (it seems absurdly generous, because Laura has just met her, what does she really know about her?), she doesn’t hate the idea.

They stay at the farm until Sunday afternoon. Normally Natasha would be climbing the walls after five straight days with anyone, but Clint is Clint, and Laura...Laura is something else. 

Laura offers her a choice of hot cocoa or coffee with breakfast each morning, and on the second morning Natasha gives in to curiosity and asks for hot cocoa. “Good choice,” Clint says eagerly as he waits for his own cup of cocoa. “She makes the best cocoa ever.”

“You think everything I make is ‘the best ever,’” Laura calls fondly. 

“Because it is!” Clint insists. 

Natasha’s not sure what to expect, but Laura’s hot cocoa really is delicious. It’s rich and thick and has just the right mix of sweetness (and, as Clint whispers when Laura’s gone to get eggs, just enough cinnamon to give it a kick). “Old family recipe,” Laura explains with a grin. “My grandma taught me everything I know about food.”

Natasha can’t imagine that, someone teaching her to cook. But she nods and says, “It’s very good.”

Over the next few days, she finds herself watching Laura. Not quite the way she usually watches people; it’s not risk assessment or sizing up a target. But she doesn’t know how else to get to know people. 

Laura doesn’t seem to mind. She doesn’t push Natasha to join her in whatever she’s doing, but she does ask politely if she wants to. Nine times out of ten, Natasha ends up either agreeing or hovering in Laura’s general proximity. 

It’s not even that Laura does anything particularly interesting. She’s usually either doing farm chores, cleaning the house, reading, or doing jigsaw puzzles. She has a new one Clint got her for Christmas that’s some sort of complicated cat collage. “I like cats,” Laura explains, looking a little sheepish. “But I’m allergic. So cat puzzles are the best I can get.”

“Ah,” Natasha says, tilting her head to study the picture on the box. “Do you only do cat puzzles?”

“Oh god, no,” Laura laughs. “I sort of collect them? It’s silly but it relaxes me. I like having something to focus on, something that I can see my progress as I’m going. And I like the feeling and the noise when the pieces snap together.” As she talks, she snaps one piece into place. 

“I see,” Natasha nods, even though she doesn’t.

“Also my mom used to buy them for me. She had to work a lot, but she tried to buy me new puzzles when she had the money, and when she had a day off and I didn’t have school we’d leave the TV on and work on a puzzle all day.” Laura smiles, as if lost in thought.

“I can understand that. Sorry I’m…” Natasha trails off, moving her hands around because she’s not sure what else to do with them. Sorry I have no idea how to relate to people with normal childhoods? Sorry I ask uncomfortable questions? “Sorry,” she finishes lamely. 

Laura shrugs. “It’s okay. You really don’t have to hang around in here, I think Clint’s outside chopping wood or something. I’m really boring, I know.”

“You’re not boring,” Natasha insists. “I don’t know what else I’d be doing, anyway.”

“You can help, if you want,” Laura offers. “I mean, I don’t mind you watching, but if you want to.”

So Natasha sits down in the chair on the other side of the card table and studies the pieces before her. She’s not much for small talk, and Laura seems to understand that and says, “Has Clint told you about how we met?”

“No.” Natasha tips her head in curiosity. Normally she finds “how we met” stories inane, but she likes listening to Laura talk.

“Alright, so when he starts this story he always insists on mentioning that he had just been tragically dumped by a fellow agent, and he took a couple of weeks off to lick his wounds and decided to go stay in a cute little bed and breakfast in a random town. He googled around and found one in a little Pennsylvania town that looked really cute, so he said what the hell…”

On Saturday afternoon, while Clint is taking a nap, Laura says, “I’m gonna watch my favorite Christmas movie, you want to join me?”

Natasha’s never seen a Christmas movie before this trip. _ It’s a Wonderful Life _had been surprisingly tolerable, but she suspects that most Christmas movies lean heavy on the saccharine and heartwarming. She’s already sharpened and polished all the knives she brought, though, and she doesn’t really have anything better to do, so she shrugs and says, “Sure.”

“Great,” Laura beams. “You want popcorn?”

Natasha nods and goes into the TV room to plop herself in front of the couch. The sound of the popper floats in and, over it, Laura calls, “Do you like butter or seasoning? I’ve got cheese powder and garlic.” 

“Surprise me.”

Laura returns with a giant bowl full of popcorn dripping with butter and covered in cheese powder. “I went a little overboard,” she says apologetically, offering a napkin. “Clint and I both love this shitty cheese powder, but if he’s around when I make cheese popcorn he tries to hog the bowl.”

“That’s okay.” Natasha grins and takes first the napkin and then a handful of popcorn. 

Laura pops a VHS tape into the player and fast forwards through the commercials. Natasha prepares herself for a cute child or whimsical music.

Instead, the title screen comes up and she squints to make sure she’s seeing it right. “_ Die Hard _?” Natasha asks, raising an eyebrow and glancing over at Laura. 

Laura’s grinning like a little kid. “Just watch,” she says eagerly. “It takes place at Christmas, it counts as a Christmas movie. Clint’s a sap for _ It’s a Wonderful Life _, but this one’s my Christmas movie.”

The movie’s great, and Natasha definitely prefers this to what she was picturing when Laura said “Christmas movie” - but she ends up spending at least part of it just watching Laura watch the movie. Laura laughs at every joke, bounces in her seat during the action scenes, and even mouths along with some of the lines. “Sorry,” she says when she notices Natasha watching her. “This is my favorite movie, I get kind of into it.”

“It’s okay, you’re having fun.”

Clint pokes his head in just before the end and when he sees what they’re watching, he grunts, “Yippee ki-yi yay,” before giving them a salute and retreating.

“He doesn’t like Bruce Willis,” Laura stage-whispers to Natasha. 

Natasha snorts. “Jealous, is he?”

Laura winks. “A little. Doesn’t like Liv Tyler much either, for the same reason.”

That takes Natasha by such surprise that all she can say is, “Oh.” It’s one thing for her stupid body to be attracted to Laura - who she has just met and who is Clint’s wife - but it’s quite another to hear Laura hint at being attracted to women right in front of her. 

Laura immediately looks ashamed. “I’m sorry, that was weird. I didn’t mean to make things weird. You don’t need to know what or who I like or don’t like.” She glances at Natasha once, then quickly looks away, playing with the edge of the popcorn bowl.

Her sudden shyness makes Natasha bold. “It’s okay. Me too. Well, I don’t know who Liv Tyler is, but.” She shrugs. “I like both.”

“Oh.” Laura smiles, still looking a bit shy. “Well, um, great then. I mean, obviously same here so it’s...cool. I haven’t met a lot of people since college who...yeah.” She’s turning pink, and it’s adorable. 

“Me neither,” says Natasha, trying to stay casual even though her face feels annoyingly hot..

Just then, Clint pokes his head in again. “Oh good, you’re done. You guys wanna play Catan before dinner?”

Natasha’s startled, but she keeps herself calm and just raises an eyebrow. “Catan?”

“Settlers of Catan,” Laura explains, a little flustered herself. “It’s, um, a board game. It’s like, you’re trying to get resources to build roads and buildings and have the best settlements? Kind of a strategy game, I guess.”

“You’ll like it,” Clint promises, seeing Natasha’s doubtful expression.

Natasha is less confident, although it does turn out to be a fun game when she absolutely dominates Clint and, an hour later, earns her tenth point and wins the game.

“Aw,” he grumbles when she smirks triumphantly at him. “Beginner’s luck.”

Laura’s eyes are gleaming. “We should play Risk after dinner and see if that luck holds.”

“Oh what the hell, I’m getting my ass kicked either way. How about it, Nat? It’s even more up your alley, it’s about conquering the world through dice combat.”

Natasha’s riding the high of Laura’s smile, so she nods and says, “Sounds good to me.”

Laura beckons her into the kitchen to “help with dinner,” which turns out to be Laura whispering in her ear, “Want to team up in that game? We can beat him together.”

Ignoring the pleasant shivers running down her spine, Natasha agrees.

Risk turns out to be more of a chance-based game than Catan, but Natasha finds herself getting into this one more. Maybe that’s because she enjoys “attacking” Clint with the dice, or maybe it’s because Laura keeps grinning over at her whenever one of them wins a “battle.” Either way, it’s intensely satisfying to conquer Clint’s final territory (the Ukraine, which amuses her) and wipe him off the board. 

“I regret bringing you here,” sighs Clint to Natasha as she and Laura high-five. “At least when it’s just the two of us I win sometimes.”

“How do you know I’m not just letting you win?” Laura teases, and Clint sticks out his tongue at her.

Of course, her allegiance with Laura dissolves the instant Clint’s off the board. Natasha expected nothing less, and is even pleased when Laura starts a vicious attack on her greatest strongholds (Brazil and Ural). “All’s fair in love and war,” Laura says cheerfully, handing her the defensive dice. 

Natasha decides to ignore her impulse to say something slightly inappropriate and instead goes with, “If you had rolled over and let me win ‘cause of our former alliance, I’d feel patronized.”

“Never,” Laura says eagerly. 

“Wow,” Clint laughs. “So you’ll let me win but not her?”

Laura nods and gestures for Natasha to roll her dice. “Yep.”

Natasha does her best, but ultimately it’s Laura who wins. “Thank you, thank you,” she says, bowing dramatically as they golf-clap for her. “I promise to be a benevolent ruler. Minimal dictator behavior.”

“Glad to hear it, babe.” Clint leans over to give her a kiss. “Benevolent overlords all the way.”

“Are you accepting applications for an advisor?” Natasha asks playfully.

“I’ll consider it,” Laura says with a wink.

\--- 

**January 2003**

It’s been weeks since Christmas and she can’t get Laura out of her head. It’s really annoying.

“Laura likes you,” Clint says one day as they’re walking to a meeting. “She keeps asking how you’re doing.”

Natasha keeps her face totally neutral, like Clint’s just commented on the weather. “That’s nice of her.”

“Yeah.” Clint looks like a little kid with a secret. “You want her email?”

That makes Natasha’s lips twitch. “What?”

“Her email. You know.” Clint mimes typing on a keyboard. “I’d give you her phone number but service is shit out there and texts never go through. Laura and I mostly email unless something urgent’s going on. It’s all encrypted and shit. I thought you might wanna get in on that.”

“Clint, I can’t email your wife.”

His brow furrows. “Why not?”

“Because…” Natasha shakes her head. “She’s your _ wife _, Clint.”

“Well, yeah, duh,” Clint says, rolling his eyes. “But I don’t own her, Nat. She’s her own person and stuff. And she likes you. She really likes you.”

“Oh?” Natasha’s insides kind of feel like they’re on fire.

“Yeah. And I know you don’t wanna admit it, but you like her too.” He flinches once he gets that sentence out, like he’s expecting a death glare or a punch on the arm or something. But Natasha just stares at him.

“I don’t-” She shakes her head again. “She’s important to me, but so are you.”

“Oh my god, just send her one email,” Clint sighs. “Laura’s a grownass adult and so are you. We worked it all out between us, she can date and fuck whoever as long as she’s safe about it and stuff. She wants to get to know you better. Whatever happens happens. Also, how could I be mad, you have the best taste ever in women.” This does get him a shove, which he accepts with a laugh. 

Natasha’s never had a penpal before. She’s also never genuinely tried to flirt with someone in text form. She’s left flirty voicemails and sent some dirty messages to targets, but this is something new. She has no idea what to do.

She finally starts typing: _ Hi Laura, Clint gave me your email. Thanks for being so nice at Christmas. I liked hanging out with you. _

Jesus. She sounds like a child being forced to write to a cousin they barely know and only vaguely tolerate.

_ Hi Laura, Clint gave me your email. I feel ridiculous writing like this, but I do want to talk to you more. I really enjoyed spending Christmas with you. Your smile is _

Nope. This is ridiculous. Natasha sighs and, after much deliberation, finally sends this:

_ HI Laura, Clint thought we should be email penpals and I agree. Please excuse my writing style, I don’t have a lot of friends. _

Immediately after hitting send, she books it for the gym and punches a sandbag for thirty minutes. That helps distract her a little. Of course, once she’s finished, she checks her email immediately. 

_ Hi Natasha! I’m excited to talk with you more and I’d like us to be friends. You can tell me as much or as little about yourself as you want, absolutely no pressure. :) Are you comfortable with me asking you questions or do you want to start by asking me things? _

After a few minutes of frantic googling icebreaker questions, Natasha replies.

_ N: I’ll start by asking you some questions. Where would you spend all your time if you could? If you didn’t have to sleep, what would you do with the extra time? What’s your favorite smell? Who’s had the most impact on your life? (I’m sorry if these questions are inane. I got them from the internet. Like I said, not a lot of friends.) _

_ L: No worries, I don’t mind internet questions! I’m used to much sillier ice breakers. I was an English major in college. :) _

  * __I’d spend all my time at my favorite coffee shop in town, if I could. It’s my favorite place to work, and I’m friends with some of the baristas so sometimes they give me free drinks or day-old pastries. I can’t go very often because the parking in horrible and it’s almost an hour’s walk from the farm, and the buses here are a joke, so unless I go first thing in the morning and plan to stay there at least half the day it’s not really practical. Plus I don’t like leaving the farm unattended that long. But anyway, it’s a really cute place: comfy chairs and couches, really good coffee, amazing pastries, and they have a little lending library and a quiet room for people who are there to work. I’ve written some of my best articles there.__
  * _That would be really bad, actually. I’d spend half the time either writing or procrastinating writing and the other half looking at catalogues and dreaming up decorations for the house. Basically what I do now, but more. Maybe I’d have to take up knitting or embroidery or something. I swore I’d never be a knitter but if I had nothing better to do…_
  * _My favorite smell is right after the rain, the dirt and trees and everything. I like to go sit out on the porch as the rain stops and just breathe it in. Or apple cinnamon candles. Clint makes fun of me because every time we go past a store that has candles I have to go find the apple cinnamon one and smell it. He swears they all smell the same, but they don’t. I buy the ones that smell best. I have a little collection. Is that dorky?_
  * _My mom, for sure. She’s been my hero all my life. After my dad walked out on us when I was three, she worked her ass off to make sure I had the best life she could give me. She ended up the regional manager of the local grocery chain, which means crazy hours but she did her best to be there for me. I know it was really hard and stressful for her but she did her best not to take it out on me or show how stressed she was. She brought me to work whenever she could so we could kind of hang out, and some of my favorite memories are of reading in a beanbag chair in her office while she answered phone calls. Sometimes if I need to relax I turn on audio of customer service calls._

_ Wow, this email is practically a novel. Sorry! Hope I didn’t bore you. Feel free to tell me to write less next time. :) _

Natasha blinks at the screen. This kind of emotional openness takes her completely by surprise. Usually she’d be reading through this email for weak spots, trying to figure out how to best take the target out. But this...this is just getting to know someone. For no other reason than that she wants to.

She does end up reading the email several times. She can hear Laura’s voice in her writing - so warm and bright and welcoming. If she really concentrates she can imagine Laura is here, telling her these stories face to face.

She deliberates for a deeply silly amount of time before writing back.

_ N: That coffee shop sounds really nice. Never been a coffee shop person myself, but I’d like to see it. Does Clint like it? _

_ Most people say they’d work more if they didn’t need to sleep. You’re the first I’ve seen who actually admits they wouldn’t. I like your honesty. Also I’d like to see you knitting, it’d be cute. _

_ They should make candles of that after-rain smell. That’d be perfect for you. Do you buy those cinnamon-scented pine cones at Christmas too? I promise I won’t judge if you do. :) _

_ Your mom sounds like an amazing person. Thanks for sharing all that with me. Are you still close with her? _

_ And you don’t have to apologize. I like reading your answers. Judging from that email, you’re a great writer. _

Laura’s emails start to become something she looks forward to. Soon she knows all about Laura’s mom Delilah and her Grandpa Don and Grandma Dorothy, who Laura called Dodo. Dodo taught her how to make the lasagna Natasha and Clint love so much, and how to clean pots and pans so that they sparkle, and Grandpa Don taught her how to tell a really good story. 

_ L: They used to give me a sentence and then have me make up a story based on it, _ Laura writes. _ They’d set a timer and I’d just talk and talk and keep going until time was up. Dodo would write it down for me, until I learned to write for myself of course, and then after the timer went off Grandpa Don would go through and tell me what was good and what needed “tweaking.” He didn’t ever say anything I wrote was bad, just that it needed “tweaking.” He used to be a fiction editor before he retired so he really knew what he was talking about. I think that made me a better writer than any real class ever could. _

_ N: Sounds nice. Are you still close with them? _

_ L: Oh, no, Grandpa Don passed when I was in high school. Dodo held out until my sophomore year of college, and my mom...like I said before, cancer got her a few months after I met Clint. It wasn’t a huge shock, she’d had some health issues already, but it sucked. But Clint was so great during that time - part of the reason I fell so hard for him was that he knew exactly what I needed, and when I needed space. He’s good like that. _

_ N: He is. I’m so sorry. _

Natasha considers writing more than that, but everything she thinks of feels too trite.

_ L: Sometimes I think - this is so weird but sometimes I can feel my mom looking over my shoulder when I’m doing a puzzle. Like she’s still there and she’s going to reach out and find the exact piece I need. Does that sound stupid? _

It does, a little, but Natasha understands what she means. 

_ N: No, I get it. Sorry for making you sad. We can talk about something else. _

_ L: No, it’s good to talk about it. And they’re a part of me, you know? I want you to know about them. _

She starts listening to Joan Jett and Sleater-Kinney and Fleetwood Mac and Tegan and Sara, because Laura says they’re her favorites. Clint, with his slightly more dad rock taste, seems amused but slightly baffled. “I don’t really get this music,” he admits when Natasha puts on a Joan Jett CD to work out to one day. “I mean, I _ get _ it, but it just seems really loud to me. I’m not punk enough, I guess.” 

Natasha snickers. “Nothing about you is punk, Barton.”

After a few weeks, Laura writes, _ So are you comfortable with me asking you questions? It’s okay if not, and you don’t have to answer them if you don’t want to. I’d like to get to know you better, but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. _

This, like when she asked if Natasha wanted a hug at Christmas, catches Natasha off-guard and makes her more inclined to agree. 

_ N: Go ahead. I just won’t answer something if I’m not comfortable with it. _

_ L: Okay! :) Here are my questions then: _

  * __If you could go anywhere in the world to relax, where would you go and why?__
  * _What is your favorite kind of pie?_
  * _Have you ever been in love? If so, how did it end?_
  * _If you could turn into any type of animal, what would you turn into and why? Or would you opt not to turn into an animal at all?_

These questions are fine. These questions aren’t pushy or invasive, they’re just goofy. She doesn’t mind answering these.

_ N: _

  * __I actually don’t find travel all that relaxing, to be honest. Bad associations. But if I had to pick, I’d want to go to a remote beach somewhere, with as few people as possible. I’d lay on the beach and read, or sunbathe, or whatever, maybe go for a swim. I’d make sure nobody could find me until I wanted to be found.__
  * _You’re probably expecting me to list some sort of fruit pie, but I haven’t tried very many of those. My favorites are actually pirozhki, which is sort of a pie that’s usually got meat and vegetables in it. They’re really common in Russia. Clint tried to tell me that’s just a Hot Pocket and I still haven’t forgiven him for it. Pirozhki are flavorful and delicious, dammit. Hot Pockets are an abomination of a food._
  * _Nope. I’ve never been in love. Nothing to end._
  * _I would want to be something small and unobtrusive, that can go unnoticed. I thought maybe a squirrel, but they can be so dumb that I’d worry I’d end up as one of the dumb ones. Also, I wouldn’t want to be a prey animal. I think I’d like to be an owl - they’re silent fliers so they can usually unnoticed, they have very few natural predators, and they’re beautiful but deadly. I can relate, I guess. :)_

_ L: Oh, that makes sense. Sorry! Didn’t mean to bring up bad memories. A remote beach sounds nice though. I’d ask if I could tag along, but I guess that would be missing the point. _

_ Clint does love his Hot Pockets… Sorry about his abysmal taste. You can take the boy out of the frat, etc. But pirozhkis sound really good! Do you know how to make them? (Also, I’m totally making you a fruit pie sometime.) _

_ I could see you as an owl. Maybe one of those with the white faces. Barn owl! I had to google it. One of my college roommates hated owls, couldn’t stand them, said they were creepy, but I’ve always thought they were so pretty. I think that definitely suits you. _

Natasha can tell when people are flirting with her. It’s not exactly a rare occurrence. But there’s something especially endearing about Laura’s gentle flirting.

_ N: I could be persuaded to let you come along, maybe. ;) _

_ No, I don’t know how to make them. I always just bought them if I wanted one, or they were served to me. I’m sure there’s recipes online. Why do you ask? And I’d love to taste one of your pies. _

_ I was thinking a barn owl too. What about you, what animal would you pick? _

_ L: Wait, really? I didn’t expect that to work at all. When do we leave? _

_ Oh, I just thought maybe you could show me how to make them if you knew. I’ll do some investigating, I’m sure I can find a good recipe somewhere. _

_ Hm...is it boring if I just say a cat? I’d like to pick something cooler than a housecat, so let’s say a lion or a leopard. Actually, definitely a lion, I’m the one who does all the dirty work around here! _

_ N: I don’t think SHIELD’s going to let me off that easy, unfortunately. They tend to not like it when their assassins sneak off to remote beaches. But I’ll keep it in mind. If you ever hear someone knocking on your window in the middle of the night, it’s me. _ _  
_ _ You really don’t have to do that. But thank you. _

_ A lioness is perfect for you. You have to promise you wouldn’t eat me, though. _

It’s a little on the nose, but what the hell.

_ L: That sounds awfully romantic. But also dangerous. How will I know it’s not a burglar knocking at my window? _

_ I want to! Ask Clint, I make food for people I like. _

_ WELL...I can’t promise that. ;) _

_ N: Burglars aren’t exactly known for knocking before coming in. I think it’ll be pretty obvious it’s me. _

_ You’re making me blush like a schoolgirl. Is this the part where I send you a note that says “check yes or no”? _

_ L: I think I was the one that did that, by asking Clint to ask you to email me. :) Also I don’t believe you’re blushing, you’re a scary ex-assassin. Have you ever blushed in your life? _

_ N: Damn, that line usually works. You’re too smart. _

_ L: Thanks, I try to be. Hey, so do people make a lot of _ Anastasia _ jokes around you? _

_ N: ...as in the Russian royal? I think they’re too scared to. I’ve never heard any. _

_ L: I should show you the movie sometime. I can’t imagine it’s very popular in Russia ‘cause it’s wildly inaccurate. Rasputin does necromancy and has a talking bat friend. _

_ N: You know what, it’s probably not the worst bastardization I’ve ever seen. You know Clint’s ringtone for me is that stupid song that goes “ra ra Rasputin Russia’s greatest love machine”? Bastard. _

_ L: Oh yeah. He made mine “You Give Love a Bad Name” because he thinks it’s funny. _

After they’ve spent a few weeks emailing back and forth, Natasha mostly asking the questions but answering whatever Laura asks her, Natasha has the uncomfortable revelation that she likes this woman a lot. 

Like, _ really _ likes her. A dangerous amount.

And it’s that realization that makes her write an email one day that says, _ You know who I am, right? What I’ve done? _

Laura wouldn’t have any reason to know, of course, if she were just a normal citizen. But Natasha’s not sure how much Clint’s told Laura about her, if anything. She’s also not sure which would be better: if Laura has no idea who she is, or if she knows and still chooses to talk to her.

_L: What do you mean?_ _I know you’re Clint’s partner, Natasha Romanov, former KGB agent trained in the Red Room before you joined SHIELD. I know that you’ve done a lot of things you’re not proud of, and you want to make up for those things now, through your SHIELD work. I know you’re funny, and you like pirozhki and vodka and peanut butter sandwiches, and you don’t cry at movies, and you’ve never been in love. Is there anything else I need to know?_

This question is stated so plainly that it makes Natasha laugh. She can picture the look on Laura’s face as she asks it: curious, eager, a little confused. Laura isn’t asking with any ulterior motives; it’s not a trick question. She genuinely wonders if she should be concerned about the things Natasha’s done. It’s naive, but also adorable.

Still, this seems too good to be true. 

_ N: Well, I’ve committed war crimes in four countries, murdered and tortured dozens, including a few children, set a hospital on fire which definitely killed at least a hundred more people, and I’ve lost count of the ways I know how to maim someone. But it’s a lot. _

Laura doesn’t write back for almost twenty four hours. Natasha does her best not to think about it (she only sort of succeeds). Then, finally, a new email shows up. 

_ L: Don’t you think I went through this with Clint too? _

_ N: Yeah, but Clint wasn’t literally a KGB assassin. It’s different, Laura. I’m different. _

_ L: Not to me it isn’t. I like _ you _ , Tasha. And I think people can be more than their pasts. I don’t scare away that easily. :) _

_ N: You’re taking this too lightly. War crimes, torture? I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about who I am. _

_ L: Let me be the judge of that. I’m not a kid, Tasha. I can make my own choices, and I choose you. _

“Sooooo,” Clint asks her a few days later. “How are you doing?”

“Fine.” Natasha shrugs a little. “Just doing prep work for that mission in Bulgaria. How many guns are you taking? Because I was thinking minimum four, but I don’t want to get there and be underprepared.”

Clint snorts. “Not what I meant, Nat.”

“I don’t know what you could possibly mean, Barton.”

“Oh my god,” he groans. “You’re emailing Laura! You guys have been emailing for weeks! And I caught you almost smiling earlier when you thought nobody was looking! Which means it’s going well! Or you’re thinking about murder, which is also possible but less good.”

That makes Natasha snort. “Well, I’m thinking about murder now.”

“No you’re not,” Clint says gleefully, “you wouldn’t do anything to me because it’d make your new girlfriend sad.” He drags out “girlfriend” like they’re in elementary school.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” grumbles Natasha, “and you’re being really weird about this.”

Clint shrugs. “I just like seeing my wife and my best friend happy. Doesn’t seem that weird to me.”

Natasha’s not sure how to take that, so she just shrugs and keeps walking.

_ N; So, Clint keeps asking me questions about “how it’s going” like an annoying middle schooler who set up two of his friends on a date. Does he does that to you too? _

_ L: Yep. He’s insufferable once he’s got an idea in his head. Once I suggested we reroof the barn and he drove home every weekend for two months until it was done. I’m sorry. I probably got him started on this in the first place. _

_ N: Oh, I don’t blame you at all. There are thousands of people I could be emailing or talking to. But I picked my annoying friend’s wife, and now here we are. _

_ L: Well, I’m the one who asked Clint to give you my email. :) Clint and I are both suckers for pretty girls. _

_ N: Mrs. Barton, you’re trying to seduce me. ;) _

_ L: Perhaps. Is it working? _

At this point, Natasha has to go work out and then take a longer than usual shower. It’s not like she’s a virgin, for god’s sake...but this is the first time she’s considered sleeping with someone because she wants them, and not just out of physical necessity or for a job. Actually wanting someone is...weird.

_ N: Can I see you soon? I want to see you. _

Laura’s response is almost immediate 

_ L: _ C _ ould you maybe come for a long weekend? Maybe when you and Clint get back from - oh shit I almost typed it out and sent it. So much for security! From your next assignment? _

Their assignment in Bulgaria is supposed to last almost two weeks, and that suddenly seems so impossibly long that Natasha lets out an involuntary whine. Then she bites her lip, acutely embarrassed even though no one’s around to hear her.

_ N: I can do that, yeah. What do you like? _

_ L: You? :) Honestly, Tasha, we can do whatever you want that weekend. It doesn’t have to be sex. I don’t want to push you into anything. _

_ N: Laura, I want this. I want you. _

Natasha types “please” and then decides that too much. This is already a thousand times more vulnerable than she’s been with anyone before.

_ L: Okay :) I want you too, I just didn’t want to be a pushy old creep. _

_ N: You’re not pushy. And we’re like five or six years apart, not thirty. You’re fine. _

The most annoying part is the look on Clint’s face when she tells him. “This is so great! I was thinking of taking a fishing trip after we got back anyway. I can drive you to the farm and then camp at the lake for the whole weekend.”

Natasha glances around before murmuring, “Most people wouldn’t be helping their wife cheat on them with their coworker, weirdo.”

“Dude, how many times do I have to tell you it’s not cheating?” Clint rolls his eyes. “We all know about it and are okay with it. Not cheating. Besides, I really do wanna go fishing, and Laura hates it.”

“You don’t want to...I don’t know, supervise? Watch two hot women fuck?”

“I don’t wanna watch _ you _fuck,” he retorts, grinning. “Like, you’re objectively hot, I’ve seen your tits, you have great tits. But I don’t think we’re in the ‘watch each other fuck’ stage of friendship yet. Also, I dunno, I want it to be special for you guys and not get in the way.”

Natasha makes a face. “Please don’t tell me you’ve thought about me having sex with Laura. That would be the weirdest thing.”

“I haven’t! I just, I know how it goes, most people who are attracted to each other fuck. You guys are attracted to each other.”

“Fine, alright, whatever. After Bulgaria.”

\---

When Clint stops the truck in front of the house, he winks over at her. “Have fun, stud.”

“Ew.” She shoves him. “Please never say anything like that ever again. I know where you sleep.”

His shiteating grin doesn’t waver. “Seriously. Laura’s great. I hope you guys have a good weekend.”

Natasha jumps out of the truck and drags her SHIELD-issued duffel bag (it’s not sexy but it’s the only one she has) with her. “Hope you get bit by a fish, Barton.”

“Wow. And this is the thanks I get for setting you up with my wife.”

She flips him off and heads for the house. 

“Love you!” he hollers at Laura, who blows him a kiss from where she’s standing on the porch.

And then she and Laura are standing in front of each other, and she doesn’t know what to do.

“Hi,” Laura says, eyes soft.

“Hi,” Natasha says. “You look good.” She glances down at Laura’s dress, blue with little daisies on it. She wouldn’t be caught dead in it, but it suits Laura. “Cute dress.”

“It’s my favorite,” Laura says, grinning. “Even though it kind of makes me look like a farmer’s daughter.”

“Or a farmer,” Natasha points out. “Which you are.”

“All this was Clint’s idea, mostly,” Laura laughs, waving her hand to indicate the general farm. “But I don’t mind most of it. The chickens are sweet and Pete adores me even if he never wants to do anything except eat and stand around. It does get a little lonely when Clint’s not home, but I make do.” She shrugs. “Anyway, c’mon in.” She takes Natasha’s hand gently. “I made you a pie.”

Natasha raises both eyebrows. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“But I promised.” Laura tugs her inside. “Plus I like baking for pretty girls.”

It’s so different from when targets used to call her pretty, or even Madame B. Because Laura would say it even if she didn’t want to sleep with Natasha, even if she wanted nothing at all from her. Natasha believes Laura when she says it.

She follows Laura inside, noticing the warm pie smell immediately. “I could get used to this,” she says wryly. 

Laura giggles. “What, the pie?”

“The pie...and the woman who made it waiting for me.” Natasha steps closer to her. “Thank you,” she murmurs, her arms slipping around Laura’s waist. “I definitely see why Clint fell in love with you.”

Laura hums, leaning her forehead against Natasha’s. “I do seem to have that effect on people.”

Natasha leans in and kisses her. Laura’s lips are soft and taste like chapstick, and Natasha wonders idly if she did that just for her, which makes the warmth in her belly grow. After a few chaste kisses she slips her tongue into Laura’s mouth.

“Tasha,” sighs Laura, and it’s one of the hottest things Natasha’s ever heard. She pulls her closer and kisses her until they’re both gasping.

“C’mere,” Laura says, tugging her back through the hallway toward the bedrooms. Natasha hesitates as they pass the guest room where she slept last time, but Laura guides her toward the master bedroom. “It’s okay,” she says when she sees Natasha’s uncertainty. “Come into my room.” So she does.

Once inside, she kisses Laura again and gently tips her backwards onto the bed. Laura moans as Natasha’s weight settles on top of her, which makes Natasha grin. “You like me on top?” she whispers in Laura’s ear.

Laura shivers. “Yeah,” she replies, reaching up to tug Natasha’s tank top free from her jeans. “I think it’s time for this to come off.”

Natasha laughs and scoots back so Laura can sit up and help pull it off over her head. “Only if I can do this,” she says, reaching behind Laura to start unbuttoning her dress. 

Laura adjusts to make it easier, lifting her hair out of the way. This also leaves her neck exposed, so Natasha can’t help but kiss it. “How do you feel about marks?” she murmurs against Laura’s skin.

Laura lets out another moan as Natasha’s teeth scrape gently against her neck. “Nothing I can’t cover up,” she says. “I - I like it when Clint does it too.”

That should bother Natasha - the reminder that she’s in her best friend’s bed, about to sleep with his wife, who she might also have pretty significant feelings for, but it doesn’t. “Good,” Natasha says, undoing the buttons carefully. “I wanna leave you something to remember me by.”

“Oh,” Laura giggles. “Do you use that line often? I bet it works.”

Natasha smiles. “I’ve used it before, but never meant it.” She finally finishes the row of buttons down Laura’s back and adds, “Alright, let me get this off you.”

Laura shifts so she can get the dress over her head. Once that’s done, Natasha makes quick work of the bra and then pauses to stare. “Wow,” she says, “you are so hot.”

That makes Laura preen a little. “You think so?” she asks coyly. Then she leans in to kiss Natasha and reaches to unhook her bra too. “It’s only fair,” she says. “I want to see how hot you are too.”

Finally, they’re both fully naked and Natasha pushes Laura onto her back again, kissing her firmly. “What do you want?” she asks. “Anything.”

Laura sighs, then whimpers as Natasha nips at her neck. “Touch me?”

“I am touching you,” Natasha teases, kissing down Laura’s neck toward her ear.

“More touching,” Laura insists, squirming a little. “Please?”

“I can do that.” Natasha kisses her mouth once more before shifting down to her collarbone. “So gorgeous,” she whispers. 

She kisses and nibbles her way across Laura’s collarbone, then down to her breasts. When she rolls her tongue around one of Laura’s nipples, Laura squeals. “Y-yeah,” she whines. “I like that.”

“Do you?” Natasha hums around the nipple, reaching with her hand to fiddle with the other one. She plays with them both for a little while, just listening to the cute little noises Laura makes. 

“Tasha,” Laura finally whimpers, “I - I want…” She rocks her hips against Natasha’s.

Natasha leaves one final kiss between Laura’s breasts and then starts to move downwards again. “What do you want?” she asks, punctuating her words with kisses. 

“Your mouth?” Laura breathes, and it makes Natasha nervous for a second, because she hasn’t given cunnilingus in a few years. But she nods and purrs, “I can do that,” before positioning herself between Laura’s legs. 

She’s ridiculously wet, and as Natasha begins to lap at her Laura sighs, “I...I came once already earlier, I couldn’t help it, I was just...just excited to see you…”

That makes Natasha moan against her, which makes Laura moan in turn, even louder. Natasha licks at her clit, using her tongue fast then slow then fast again, seeing what works. Laura squirms against her and lets out these breathless little whimpers that send lighting down Natasha’s spine. But it’s when Natasha slips one finger and then another inside Laura at the same time that she sucks on her clit that Laura shrieks, “God yes Tasha yes yes!” So she keeps that up, feeling a little smug.

Natasha can’t see Laura’s face as she comes, but she hears her cry out and feels her hips stutter against Natasha’s mouth. Natasha keeps licking her until Laura nudges her mouth away and says, “C’mere. I wanna kiss you.”

So Natasha does, and Laura sighs as Natasha slips her tongue into her mouth. “You taste good,” Natasha says, pulling back to nip at her bottom lip. 

“Let me taste you too,” Laura begs. “Or, or fingers, whatever you want. Please, Tasha, I wanna make you feel good.”

Natasha moves off Laura so she can sit up, then lies down on her back and pulls Laura down for another kiss. “Use your mouth too,” she says. 

Laura nods and dives in, and Natasha hasn’t previously had great experiences with receiving oral but within thirty seconds of Laura eating her out she’s ready to write a fucking sonnet about Laura’s tongue. Or she would be, if she were able to form a coherent thought beyond _holy shit holy shit holy shit-_

Afterwards, they lie wrapped around each other, Laura drawing patterns on Natasha’s back. Natasha feels like she might burst out of her skin, and it scares her but she also likes it. There’s a question burning at the back of her mind, though.

“Is this just supposed to be sex?” she asks, because she’s been trying to be more forthright.

There’s a flicker of dismay on Laura’s face before she asks, “Do you want it to be?” She sounds so hurt that Natasha regrets asking.

“No,” she says, shaking her head emphatically. “I...I like you. I want to...keep doing this. All of this.”

“Well, good,” Laura says, “because I was going to ask if you’d be my girlfriend.”

Girlfriend. That’s never been a word Natasha’s had cause to use for herself. She lets it settle over her like a warm coat, and decides she likes it. “Yeah,” she says. “Yeah, I will.”

_ \--- _

**April 2003**

Fury’s been sending them out on back-to-back missions the last few weeks, which would have been fine six months ago. But now...well, it’s embarrassing to admit but she misses Laura. They’re still emailing, of course, and she’s been able to call once from a payphone in Cardiff, but it’s not the same. 

_ Do you think maybe you can come for another long weekend once you guys finish with the block of missions? _ Laura writes, and Natasha starts thinking. 

She and Clint are driving to the safehouse when she pokes him in the arm and asks, “Where do you take Laura on dates?”

Clint, who is in the middle of eating a Power Bar, makes a deeply stupid face as he finishes chewing his mouthful of food. “Uh,” he says once he’s swallowed it. “I dunno. We go walking a lot. Dinner? Sometimes a movie?”

Natasha sighs. “Really? How on God’s green earth are you still married to her?”

“Dude, I don’t know! It’s a minor miracle.” Clint shrugs exaggeratedly. “Also she likes it when I just plan stuff for her and she doesn’t have to worry about anything. Oh, one time I took her to a Pearl Jam concert and we got a fancy hotel and she _ loved _ it. You could maybe see if any of her favorite bands are playing. I don’t take her to concerts anymore, they hurt my ears, but I bet she’d love to go.”

“Wow, Grandpa,” teases Natasha. “Aren’t you cool.”

“Hey, you’re the one asking me for dating advice! That’s not cool either!”

But it is a good idea, and as soon as they reach the safehouse Natasha does some investigating. Fleetwood Mac is currently on a massive tour, with most locations sold out, but after a bit of digging and some favors called in she secures two tickets to the May 19th show in Philadelphia. It’s only about an hour’s drive from the farm, but she finds a cute little bed and breakfast for them to spend the night in too. Then she puts in a time off request and emails Laura.

_ N: Hey, what are you doing on and around May 19th? _

It’s more than a month away, so she probably doesn’t have plans. At least, Natasha hopes so.

_ L: Nothing. Why, you free then? :) _

_ N: As a matter of fact, I am. And I have a surprise for you. I’ll come pick you up at the farm that Sunday. Have an overnight bag ready with two days’ worth of clothes and pack an outfit you wanna show off and dance in. _

_ L: Ooh, are we going to somewhere fancy? _

_ N: Not fancy exactly, but you’ll like it. _

“So did you figure something out?” Clint asks a couple of days later. “For the date, I mean.” 

“Yeah. We’re gonna see Fleetwood Mac and stay at a bed and breakfast.”

“Aw.” Clint grins. “That’s so cute.”

“Shut up,” she replies, but she can’t help grinning too. Then something occurs to her, and before she can stop herself, she asks, “So...has Laura ever dated anyone else while you guys have been married?”

Clint’s grin widens. “Are you jealous?”

“No,” Natasha scoffs, which is mostly true. “Just curious.”

“She’s been on some dates. Guys and girls, but the guys tend to get weirder when she mentions me. There was a woman she was seeing awhile back, a teacher or something, but that didn’t last long. She’s pretty picky.”

That should make Natasha feel flattered, but instead it sends up a weird flutter inside her. She tries to sound casual when she asks Laura about it.

_ N: Hey, silly question, how many people have you dated since you married Clint? _

_ L: Not that many. I’ve been on a few dates here and there, but they mostly peter out. I was seeing a teacher, Emily, for a few months, but it didn’t work out. Nothing wrong with her, we just didn’t have as much in common as we thought. And I’ve been on dates with a few guys, but a lot of them get weird when I talk about Clint. Why do you ask? _

_ N: No reason. Curiosity, I guess. I just haven’t done this whole “dating” thing before and I was wondering what you had to compare me to. _

_ L: I wouldn’t compare you to anyone else, silly :) _

In the days leading up to the concert, and as she’s driving to New Hope, she notices a weird feeling in her chest she can’t place. It’s not until she spots the exit sign to get to the farm that she realizes that feeling might be happiness.

The front door is unlocked, so she doesn’t bother knocking. Laura is sitting at the table, working on - of course - a puzzle. “You know, you really shouldn’t leave your front door unlocked,” Natasha says playfully. “You never know what kind of scoundrel might come in and whisk you away.”

Laura giggles and stands up, wrapping her arms around Natasha. “Oh no,” she says, eyes wide. “Are you one of those scoundrels I should be worried about?”

“Maybe.” Natasha kisses her. “Are you going to let me whisk you away?”

“I’m definitely thinking about it,” teases Laura, nuzzling into her. “Where are we going? You’ve been so secretive, it’s driving me crazy.”

“Not far,” Natasha replies, grabbing Laura’s hand. “About an hour away.”

Laura grabs her bag off the floor. “Are we going out tonight?”

“No, tomorrow night. We’re staying there until Tuesday morning.” Natasha leads her out to the car and then, impulsively, kisses the back of her hand. It’s the goofiest thing she’s ever done. But it makes Laura giggle and that’s the important thing.

Traffic is better than she expects, and they arrive at the bed and breakfast around four thirty. “Aw,” Laura coos as they get out of the car. “It’s so cute.”

“I thought you’d like it. Clint suggested it, to be honest. I mean, not this specific one, just the idea in general.”

“Oh, I’ll thank him when I see him in a couple weeks,” says Laura with a wink. “Let’s go check in, I wanna see our room.”

It isn’t overly fancy, but there’s plenty of space and the bed is huge. Laura sits down on the edge of it, then sighs happily and flops onto her back. “This is great,” she grins. “So do we have plans while we’re here?”

“Well, I figured tonight we could get dinner and walk around a little, or just hang out, whatever.” Natasha shrugs. “And then tomorrow night…just a Fleetwood Mac show, that’s all.”

Laura sits up, shrieks, then slaps her hand over her mouth. “Oh my god,” she says. “Oh my fucking god, are you serious?”

“Yep.” Natasha hands her the envelope with the tickets. “See?”

“Holy shit,” Laura yelps, taking them from her carefully, like they might shatter if she’s too quick. “Tasha, you...oh my _ god. _”

“It’s nothing,” Natasha says with a little shrug. “Consider it a late Christmas present, since I didn’t get you anything last year.”

Laura scoots over and pulls Natasha onto the bed with her. “You’re incredible,” she whispers, kissing her fiercely.

Natasha smiles against her lips. “I do my best,” she says, then leans over Laura. “So, we’ve got a couple hours until dinnertime. What do you think we should do?”

“I can think of a few things,” Laura hums, pulling her in for another kiss.

Later, after they’ve both worked up an appetite, they end up at a cute little Italian restaurant for dinner. It’s oddly thrilling, paying for dinner. Natasha would never admit this to anyone, especially Clint, who would never let her live it down, but it makes her feel...normal. Like she’s just a normal person taking her girlfriend out to dinner.

They spend most of Monday exploring Philly, and then go to the latest stupid disaster movie and make out in the back row like teenagers. (Natasha has no idea if this is a thing real teenagers do or if it’s something American movies made up, but either way, she likes it.) Then they head for the concert. 

It’s only about a ten minute walk from the B&B, which Natasha did on purpose, in case Laura drinks at the show. She doesn’t really feel like drinking tonight, though. She wants to remember every detail.

The show is incredible, of course. Natasha likes this band, but she bought these tickets for Laura. Laura has a not-so-little crush on Stevie Nicks, and she knows all the words to every Fleetwood Mac song. By the end of the night, she’s hoarse and exhausted, but radiating happiness. They practically float back to the B&B, hand in hand, and fall asleep curled against each other. 

When Natasha wakes the next morning, Laura is in her arms, gazing at her. “Hi,” Laura mumbles, smiling sleepily.

“Hi,” says Natasha, kissing her. “Good morning.”

Laura hesitates, biting her lip, and then she whispers, “Tasha, can I tell you something?”

Natasha knows what’s coming. It should bother her. She’s spent most of her life avoiding this, avoiding even the possibility of love, romance, attachments - those things were distractions, even dangers, in the Red Room. They made her insufficient. But now...now she doesn’t have to worry about that. It scares her more than she wants to admit.

But Laura is lying here, eyes soft, and Natasha decides to ignore that fear. “Go ahead,” she says gently, brushing some of Laura’s hair out of her face. “You can say whatever you want.”

“I know you don’t really do feelings,” Laura says, “and I get that, but...I do. Is that okay?” She looks anxious, like Natasha might jump out of bed and run away if she so much as mentions a feeling.

And a part of her kind of _ does _ want to do that - it’s her instinct, screaming at her that attachments are a weakness. But another part of her wants this, wants _ Laura _, so badly…

“What if I said,” she replies slowly, “that I’m thinking about giving feelings a try?”

Laura’s eyes widen, and then she smiles so big that it makes Natasha’s heart stop. “Well then,” she says playfully, “I’d say that I think I’m falling in love with you, Natasha Romanov.”

Natasha kisses her then, and hopes that will be enough, that it will mean the same as all the things she’s not sure how to say yet.

**September 2003**

Laura’s birthday is September 23rd. Natasha’s never cared about her own birthday, but she knows other people care, so she’s working on something for awhile. 

Clint picks up on this, of course, and starts pestering her. “So what’s your plan?” he asks, over and over, just when she hopes maybe he’s gotten bored of it. Of course he hasn’t.

“Nope,” she says cheerfully. “You figure out your own plan for your wife’s birthday.”

“Geez, I wasn’t gonna cheat off of you!” He pouts. “I was just wondering.”

She hides all of the parts of Laura’s present in places he would never think to look, and refuses to tell him anything about it.

Laura greets them both with kisses when they arrive at the farm for her birthday weekend. “Missed you both.” 

Clint leans down to kiss her forehead and asks, “Holding down the fort okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” Laura says with a smile and a shrug. “Those chicks should be hatching any day now. Maybe you two’ll get lucky enough to see them.”

“Aw. Sounds cute.” Natasha squeezes her hand. “Hey, we have presents for you.”

“And a cake!” Clint adds. “We picked it up on the way here so it’s fresh.”

Laura raises both eyebrows. “Aw, you guys didn’t have to do that, I figured I could just make one.”

“You can’t make your own birthday cake!” Clint protests. “Nat, back me up here.”

Natasha nods. “Let us spoil you, Laur.”

That makes Laura giggle. “Alright, fine, fine. Let’s see this cake.”

It’s not an overly fancy cake - they both knew Laura wouldn’t really want one, but it’s cute and it has little yellow and lavender roses on the corners and it has raspberry filling, which Clint said is Laura’s favorite. She loves it and eats two pieces. “I know it’s weird to like Safeway cakes,” she says, “but it reminds me of my mom. Either Dodo would make my cakes or my mom would buy one from her store, and they tasted exactly like this.”

“Makes sense,” agrees Natasha. Then she goes to grab the box she carefully wrapped. “Happy birthday.”

The box contains half a dozen apple-scented candles, some of which cost over fifty dollars (who knew there were high-end candles? Not her, until she did some research). It’s sort of heavy, so she has a feeling Laura knows what’s in it when she picks it up, but her eyes still light up and she kisses Natasha. “Thank you,” she says, beaming. “I know it’s silly but…”

“You like them,” Natasha says. “So I knew you’d like this. I didn’t smell them though, they might suck.”

“Hey, it’s the thought that counts.”

Clint’s present for her is an absurdly overpriced puzzle that has illustrations of “cats around the world,” where said cats are wearing silly outfits from different countries. He showed Natasha the online listing when he bought it so that she, too, could react to the original price of one hundred dollars. Laura grins when she unwraps it. “This is so cheesy, I love it.”

There are also a pair of diamond stud earrings that came with the puzzle on a “spend at least $30, get these gaudy $125 earrings for $30” deal. Natasha goaded him into buying these, because they’re sort of hideous, but she knows they’ll amuse Laura, especially once she knows the story. “You don’t actually have to wear them,” Clint chuckles. “They’re so fucking ugly.”

“No, I love that they’re so ugly,” Laura protests. “I’ll wear them every day and think of you both.”

Clint goes outside to start the grill for burgers, and Natasha and Laura curl up on the couch together to watch a movie before dinner. (Laura half-heartedly offers to help with the food, but Natasha and Clint refuse to let her get up to do anything.) 

“So,” Laura says, grinning as she nestles against Natasha. “I found a copy of _ Anastasia _a few weeks ago.”

“Oh yeah?” Natasha smirks. “I’m guessing this means that’s what we’ll be watching?”

“We don’t _ have _ to,” teases Laura, “but I feel like you should have this experience.”

**May 2004**

_ L: So...I have something I wanted to talk to you about. _

Natasha stares at Laura’s email, trying to figure out how to take it. She’s fairly sure this isn’t a precursor to Laura breaking up with her, considering Laura’s last email was all about how excited she is to have Natasha come visit over Memorial Day weekend. Still, she’s cautious as she types, _ What is it? Everything okay? _

_ L: Everything’s fine. But...Clint and I have been talking about trying for a baby soon and I was wondering how you felt about kids. Having them, I mean. _

And there it is - the question she always knew was coming. She’s a little surprised it took this long. So she steels herself and responds. 

_ N: Kind of a sore subject, to be honest. It’s complicated. _

_ L: Oh no, I’m sorry! Never mind, we don’t have to talk about it right now. _

_ N: It’s alright. It would’ve come up sooner or later, especially if you guys want kids. I can’t have them, so I haven’t given it a lot of thought. Sorry to be a downer. _

_ L: No, it’s my fault for bringing it up, don’t apologize. I’m sorry. _

Natasha glances at the clock, which reads 10:28 PM. Then she grabs one of the burner phones she has stashed in her bedside table and emails Laura, _ Can I call you? _

_ L: Yeah. _

Laura sounds hesitant on the phone. “We can talk about something else if you want,” she says right away. 

“No, it’s okay. It’s...I don’t want to write it out.”

She tells Laura everything, and once she’s done Laura just says, “Jesus Christ.”

“Yeah.” Natasha shifts so she’s lying on her back. “So that’s where I’m at.” She keeps her tone light and jokey.

“You don’t have to do that, Tasha.”

“Do what?” 

“That fake happy thing you do with your voice when you’re talking about something serious but you don’t want people to know it.” Laura’s voice is gentle. “You can feel stuff with me. I _ want _ you to feel stuff with me.”

Natasha swallows. It’s harder than it should be. “Sorry. Old habits and all.”

“I know.” Laura sighs. “I don’t want to push you, I just...I want you to feel safe with me.”

“Laur, I’ve already told you way more things than most people know about me.” It’s true. Besides Clint, Laura is the person who knows the most about her.

“Okay, okay.” She can hear the smile in Laura’s voice. “But...if Clint and I start trying for a baby, how would you feel about that?” Now her voice is shaking a little.

Natasha considers this. She’s known Clint wants kids for awhile - he’s one of those guys who’s really suited to being a dad. And Laura…Laura would be an incredible mom. She pictures Clint and Laura with smaller versions of themselves, tiny little people who would probably have Clint’s sense of humor and Laura’s taste in music and their own quirks. It’s a nice mental image.

Of course, she can’t figure out where she would fit into that, but she pushes that thought down and says, “I think you two will be amazing parents.”

“Okay,” Laura says. “I didn’t want to do anything without talking to you first. You’re just as important to me as he is.”

“Thanks,” Natasha says, and she wants to believe what Laura’s saying more than anything. Then she pauses before asking mischievously, “So, what are you wearing?”

Laura bursts into giggles. “Tasha! This isn’t that kind of phone call!”

“Not right now it isn’t.” Natasha chuckles. “But I really just wanted to hear you laugh. I like your laugh.”

“Aw,” Laura says, giggling again. “Y’know you don’t have to flirt with me, I’m already dating you.”

“But I like flirting with you.”

They keep talking for awhile, until Laura dozes off in the middle of a story Natasha’s telling about the first time Maria dragged her to a dyke bar. “Sorry,” she mumbles. “Go ‘head an’ finish.”

“I think you need to sleep,” teases Natasha. “Don’t you have to be up for the chickens in like five hours?”

“Fuck,” groans Laura. “Alright, alright. I’ll hang up now. I love you.”

“I know.”

**August 2004**

She and Clint are sparring when a level 2 agent appears, hovering in the doorway of the training room awkwardly. Natasha finds this annoying, so after she flips Clint over onto his back, she looks up and grunts, “Need something?”

The woman jumps. “Um, Agent Barton has a phone call. He needs to come to Director Fury’s office.”

“Oh shit,” Natasha teases, grinning down at Clint, “someone’s in trouble.”

Clint swats half-heartedly at her and gets up, heading out toward Fury’s office. Natasha takes a shower and heads back to her bunk to do some paperwork she’s been putting off, not thinking anything of it until Clint barges in without knocking. “Jesus, Barton, where’s the fire?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

Clint runs over and is hugging her before she can really process what’s happening. “Nat, Laura’s pregnant!” 

“Really?” 

Clint’s smiling so big that Natasha’s face kind of hurts just looking at it. “Yeah! She just got back from her doctor’s appointment. She’s six weeks, give or take. I guess my little guys are pretty powerful.”

“Jesus, Barton, I never want to hear anything about your sperm ever again,” groans Natasha, but she’s smiling too. This is good news. She’s happy for them, she really is.

“Oh hush, I don’t even know what the hell I’m saying, I’m so…” Clint shakes his head and laughs. “She said she sent you an email about it too. Wanted me to tell you first, but she said that you can take your time answering it.”

“I’ll look at it later,” Natasha says, trying for nonchalant. “We have some celebrating to do, _ daddy. _”

Exactly like she knew he would, Clint physically recoils. “I said I was sorry for the cum joke, god, _ never _ call me that again,” he says with a shudder.

Natasha winks at him. “Fine. What about Big Papa?”

“Jesus Christ, Nat.”

“I’m just playing. C’mon, this deserves a toast. Drinks are on me.”

Natasha doesn’t look at Laura’s email until after Clint’s gone back to his bunk, pleasantly drunk and deliriously happy. Only then does she slip into her bed and open it.

_ Tasha, I’m sure Clint’s told you I’m pregnant already. I wanted to tell you here rather than on the phone so that you didn’t have to have some big reaction in front of people. I can’t know what you’re thinking or feeling, and I don’t want to presume anything. But I want you to know that I was serious when we talked about this before. I’d love you to be a part of this child’s life, if you’re comfortable doing that. Clint considers you his sister, and you know what you mean to me. Just because Clint and I are adding to our family doesn’t mean you aren’t still part of it too, if you want to be. _

_ But I will understand if you need space for awhile. Please don’t feel like you need to reply to this email right away. Take your time. I’ll wait. I love you. _

Natasha feels childish for being even the slightest bit upset about this - after all, it’s not as if it comes out of nowhere. She knows Clint and Laura have been trying for a baby for a couple of months, and she and Laura have talked about this. But this is...different. 

What is the kid supposed to call her? How will they explain that, well, when a mommy and a daddy love each other very much, but also when Mommy loves Auntie Natasha… Is that who she’ll be to this baby? 

She’s glad Laura gave her the options to process things before she responds. She waits a couple of days before replying, _ Congratulations :) Does that make me Auntie Nat? _

_ If you want to be, _ Laura writes back. _ I’ll understand if you don’t. But I love you and I’m sure this baby will love you too. _

Natasha isn’t sure, but she doesn’t say that to Laura.

The first time she visits during Laura’s pregnancy is when she’s about three and a half months along, not quite showing yet. Laura insisted she stay away until after she stopped throwing up a minimum of twice a day. “Hi,” Laura says, nuzzling into her when she meets her at the door. “I missed you.”

Natasha holds her close and notices that she even seems softer now. “Hey,” she says, petting Laura’s hair. “How are you feeling?”

“Better now,” Laura chirps. “The morning sickness was a real bitch, but I think it’s finally over.”

“Good.” Natasha drops her bag. “How’s Junior?”

“Good. Not much going on. Everything seems normal and they don’t do ultrasounds until eighteen to twenty weeks. The book says it’s the size of a peach.” Laura rolls her eyes. “They really like using fruit to describe it for some reason.”

“Everyone knows what fruit looks like,” Natasha says with a shrug. “Makes sense to me.”

“How about you?” Laura asks suddenly. “I mean, how are you feeling about it?”

Natasha shrugs again, feeling awkward. “I’m happy for you both.”

Laura frowns. “Tasha, you don’t have to pretend. Not with me.”

“I’m not,” Natasha insists. “I’m very excited to meet Junior.” This leaves out the growing knot of fear in her belly that insists that Laura won’t, _ can’t _ love her the same way once she gets a real family.

Laura sighs. “Alright, we don’t have to talk about it right now if you don’t want to.”

“I really don’t,” Natasha says, trying to keep her tone light. “We only have a couple days together and I just got back from a really rough mission, let’s just watch a movie or something.”

Laura still looks displeased, but she nods.

They don’t really talk about it until the night before Natasha’s supposed to leave. “Tasha?” Laura whispers into the dark of her bedroom.

Natasha could pretend to be asleep, but she asks, “Yeah?”

“Clint and I really do want you to be part of our family.” Laura’s voice is shaking a little. “You _ and _ this baby. I know kids are a painful topic for you and I won’t force you, of course, but I wanted you to know that I’m not just going to...I don’t know, kick you to the curb and play happy heterosexual housewife now. I don’t want to lose you.”

Natasha bites her lip. “And what, I’m the baby’s second mommy? Scary Mommy?”

“I’m serious. You don’t have to be a parent to this baby but I…I want it to know how important you are to us.”

“Okay. I’ll...I’ll think about it.”

“Okay.”

But Natasha knows how this goes. She knows that no matter how much Laura wants to stay together, it just won’t work. People can look the other way, can pretend not to notice, when it’s all adults doing this, but when there’s a kid involved? All it would take was one nosy neighbor on their moral high horse for everything to fall apart. She does some research, finds evidence that in some cases families like this can work, but finds a lot more stories where they don’t. She even finds one article, only a few years old, about a woman with multiple partners whose child was taken from her. 

That cinches it. She can’t let that happen. It will tear her to pieces, but she has to end this.

She means to do it during Thanksgiving, but chickens out. Still, at that point Laura’s showing, and it’s impossible for her to ignore the _ realness _ of this baby. So she makes a deal with herself. She’ll do it while she’s there for Christmas, and that weekend will be her last happy weekend with Laura.

On Christmas Eve, they’re all cuddled up together in bed, Laura on her back in the middle like usual. Natasha’s got her head pillowed on Laura’s chest, and Clint is spooning Laura’s other side. None of them are quite tired enough to doze off yet. Clint and Laura are half-heartedly debating which _ Star Trek _ captain is better, which Natasha doesn’t even pretend to understand. She lets her eyes drift shut - not sleeping yet, just listening.

“You can’t honestly think Janeway is a better captain than Picard,” Clint says. 

“I can and I do.”

“Nat.” She feels Clint poke her face. “Nat, tell her how wrong she is.”

Natasha grunts. “For the thousandth time, I don’t know what the hell either of you are talking about and I don’t care.”

“I like the hot lady captain and Clint likes the bald man captain,” Laura simplifies.

“Oh. Well, in that case.” Natasha cracks an eye and grins. “Hot lady captain all the way.”

“Goddammit,” grumbles Clint. “No fair. You simplified it way too much, babe.”

“You asked her first,” Laura points out.

“Swear to god, the next assassin I bring home I’m not letting you show her any TV. You’re a corrupting influence!”

“Well, _ I’ll _ be home with the baby most of the time. What if I show it nothing but _ Voyager _?” 

“You wouldn’t.”

“I could.”

“You’d deprive our baby of Data? Uhura? Jadzia Dax?”

Natasha snorts and shuts her eyes, pretending to sleep as they continue to playfully argue. But secretly, she’s soaking all this up: the fondness under the bickering, the warmth of Laura’s body next to hers. She’ll need these memories.

She doesn’t do it _ on _ Christmas - she’s not heartless. Two days later, on their last full day before they’re due to drive back, she waits until Clint’s gone out to fix a leak in the barn roof before saying to Laura, “Hey, can we go for a walk?” She doesn’t want to break up with Laura here, in the farmhouse. Even as big as it is, it still seems too small for a conversation like this. She also doesn’t want Clint barging in in the middle of things, or figuring out what she’s up to and trying to talk her out of it.

Laurea looks at her like she’s suggesting chopping off a limb for fun. “It’s cold out, Tasha. It might snow.”

“Not that cold,” Natasha says, trying for playful. “C’mon, aren’t you supposed to get exercise every day? Plus, I wanna talk to you about something.”

Laura narrows her eyes in suspicion but agrees.

Once they’ve gone a ways (slowly, because Laura’s belly is starting to make walking a challenge), Natasha clears her throat. “So.”

“So.” Laura raises an eyebrow. “What did you want to talk to me about that you couldn’t do inside?”

Natasha sighs. Here she goes. “I’ve been doing some thinking.”

“Have you?” Laura sounds too casual.

“Yes. And I thought…” Why is there suddenly a lump in her throat? That’s irritating. She swallows and continues, “I don’t think I should see you anymore.”

Laura stops walking and stares at her. “Sorry?”

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” Natasha continues, ignoring the ache spreading in her chest, “for me to keep seeing you. Not like we have been.”

“You don’t think it’s a good idea?” Laura’s voice is deceptively calm, but Natasha can hear the disbelief in her voice. “What exactly is ‘not a good idea’?”

“I…” The words stick in Natasha’s throat. She tries again. “I don’t want to put you or Clint or the baby in danger.”

“_ Danger _ ?” Laura asks, and it’s a little shrill. “What are you _ talking _ about, Natasha?”

“I’m an ex-assassin who works in black ops, routinely undertaking top secret intel and reconnaissance missions, and you’re my pregnant secret girlfriend,” Natasha points out, her lips quirking up despite herself. “What about that _ doesn’t _ spell danger?”

“Well, it’s not like you’re dragging your targets here to interrogate them!” Laura points out, eyes blazing. “Clint and I have managed to keep anyone from finding out about me or this place, why should it be any different for you?”

“I…” Natasha shakes her head. “It’s not just that, Laura.”

“What else _ is _there?”

“It’s just not a good idea.”

“_ Why not? _” Laura’s shouting loudly enough that Clint can probably hear her, back at the barn.

“Because...because that’s not how we end up!” It bursts out of her, the truth she’s been thinking but hasn’t wanted to say.

Laura’s face is pale and her eyes are bright with tears. “What?”

“Laura, you know we can’t stay together.” She hates the look on Laura’s face. She wants more than anything to take it all back, to apologize and kiss her and tell her they’ll be together forever, but that would be far crueler. “Especially not once you guys have kids. What are we gonna tell them? What about when someone finds out about you and me? Someone got her kid _ taken away _ because she had multiple partners, Laura. I looked it up, it was a huge court case and almost no one was on her side. I won’t make you choose between me and your kids, Laura. I did the math. This doesn’t _ work. _”

“Well, I didn’t!” Laura snaps. “You think I haven’t thought of all of this before? Clint and I talked about it for _ hours _ before we started trying to get pregnant! And we _ both _ agreed we want you to be a part of the kids’ lives! Don’t you…” Laura lets out a choked sob. “Don’t you know you mean just as much to me as he does? That I’ve been thinking of this as _ our _ baby too?”

The words feel like a punch to Natasha’s gut. _ Our baby. _ She knows Laura means it, and that makes saying no hurt all the more. “I just can’t,” she says, voice resolute. “I can’t risk this, Laura. I _ won’t _ put your family at risk.”

Laura’s crying now, and she opens her mouth like she’s about to argue more, but Natasha walks off. Behind her, she hears Laura calling her name, but after a few times she stops. When she finally glances back, Laura’s nowhere to be seen.

Natasha stays away until it gets too cold to be outside anymore. When she gets back to the farmhouse, she opens the back door to the smell of beef stew and mushrooms, like nothing’s changed. Clint gives her a nod but says nothing, and Laura doesn’t even look up from the stove. Natasha goes into the guest room, which she’s barely set foot in all weekend, and doesn’t come out until dinner is ready.

She’s not really sure what to expect, but when she gets to the table Laura hands her a plate and gives her a polite smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Hi, Nat,” she says, like nothing has happened. “How was your walk?”

When she and Clint leave the next morning, she and Laura don’t touch, just wave goodbye. Clint’s barely pulled out of the driveway before he turns to Natasha and yelps, “Jesus Christ, Nat, what did you _ do _ to her?”

“I broke up with her.”

“Yeah, I know _ that _, duh. I got that much out of her when she walked into the house sobbing yesterday afternoon.” Clint shakes his head. “I meant, why did you break up with her? Did something happen with you guys?”

Natasha shakes her head. “Not really. I just didn’t think it was a good idea to keep seeing her when you guys are, y’know. Starting a family.”

“Oh my god,” mutters Clint. “Do you not get that _ you’re _ part of our family, Romanov? That Laura loves you just as much as she loves me, and you’re the absolutely infuriating Russian sister I never had? I love you but I’m so goddamn mad at you right now. If you didn’t want to have anything to do with this kid you could’ve just fucking said so instead of breaking her heart!”

Natasha bites her lip. “I’m not talking about this anymore, Clint. I’ve made up my mind. I can’t be with her anymore.”

Clint lets out a colossal sigh and growls “Fine” before reaching to crank up the stereo volume. They barely say a word to each other for the rest of the drive home.

She doesn’t email Laura anymore. She checks it, occasionally, and there are a few sporadic messages from Laura. Nothing like before - short, cordial updates on how she’s feeling and how the baby’s doing. Clint, too, keeps her updated. And this is enough, she tells herself. It is enough to watch her best friend and the first woman she’s ever loved be so happy and excited about their new family. 

And then, one night about two weeks after Clint’s left for paternity leave, her phone wakes her from a dead sleep. “Barton,” she grunts sleepily after glancing at the screen, “this better be because someone’s on fire.”

“Nat, Laura’s having the baby!”

“Congratulations, but-”

“She’s asking for you,” Clint adds, sounding near-frantic. “She’s, uh, she _ really really _ wants you here.” There’s shouting in the background and Natasha can only just make out Laura’s voice saying, “Is that Tasha? Are you talking to her, is she coming?” and she sounds so frightened that Natasha sits up in bed. 

“Please come?” Clint asks, and _ he _ sounds tired and also a little frightened. “She’s been in labor for like seven hours and she hasn’t stopped asking for you the whole time.”

“Yeah.” Natasha stands up and reaches for the jeans she tossed on the floor earlier. “Yeah, I can take one of the cars. I’ll make them clear it. Where are you guys?”

“Abington Memorial.” Laura screeches in pain and Clint sighs. “Hurry up, please.”

Natasha breaks every speed limit, not caring because it’s three in the morning and Laura needs her. When she gives her name at the check-in desk, a kind-faced nurse brings her to Laura’s room. “Don’t worry, Ms. Romanov,” she says cheerfully, “your sister’s doing just fine. Everything’s normal, first labors are always the roughest.”

“Sister” takes Natasha by surprise, but she nods. “Good. I, uh, didn’t expect her to ask me to be here for this. We’re...we haven’t been close lately.”

The nurse gives her a sympathetic smile. “I think having a baby gives a lot of people perspective on what’s really important. Maybe being an auntie will be just what you two need to reconnect.”

“Maybe,” agrees Natasha, trying to ignore the way her stomach tightens.

She hasn’t seen Laura since Christmas, aside from a couple of pictures Clint took on his phone. Inside the room, Laura’s lying down, sweaty, red-faced and grunting in pain as she rides out a contraction. 

She’s beautiful, and Natasha’s missed her so much.

Once Laura’s able to focus on her, she yelps “Tasha!”

“Hey,” she says, going over to grab Laura’s hand. “I’m here. Sorry I didn’t come earlier.”

“You came,” Laura says. Her voice is tired but her eyes are shining.

“Yeah, of course.” Natasha squeezes her hand. “How are you feeling?”

“Exhausted,” Laura admits. “Clint’s fallen asleep twice already.”

“I said I was sorry!” Clint whines. “It’s way past my bedtime.”

“Hush,” Natasha says, waving her hand dismissively at him. “How much longer?” She directs this question to the nurse.

“She’s almost fully dilated, so hopefully we can get ready to start pushing soon.”

Laura groans. “What if I just stopped right now, how bad would that be?”

“You’re not gonna do that,” Natasha says lightly. “You can’t introduce this kid to Janeway and dress her up as a little Starfleet captain if you don’t push her out.”

“Hey, yeah,” Clint says, grabbing Laura’s other hand. “How are we gonna do that kickass Starfleet family portrait if you don’t have this baby, Laur?”

Laura laughs, but she’s interrupted by another contraction. “Jesus Christ!”

Cooper Patrick Barton is born at 4:37 AM on April 19th, 2005. Clint and Laura are both crying by the end, and Natasha feels a little self-conscious for not crying too. But she understands, all the same. Newborns are ridiculous-looking, but Cooper...well, it’s cliche to say, but he’s beautiful. Natasha loves him the instant the nurse passes him to her. 

“Hey, little guy,” she whispers, when Laura’s dozed off and Clint’s gone to the bathroom. “You’re pretty lucky, you know that? You’ve got the best parents ever. They’re gonna love you so much, and I’m...I’m gonna love you too. And your dad’s probably gonna start teaching you to shoot arrows as soon as you can walk, and your mom’s gonna show you _ Die Hard _ and play all her favorite albums as your lullabies and make you the best lasagna in the world. And I can...I can be your Auntie Nat and bring you cool toys from all over the world and teach you how to pick locks and untie knots and kick bad guys’ asses.” There’s heat behind her eyes but she _ will not cry _, dammit. “And I’ll keep you all safe,” she adds. “I promise.”


	2. world keep on turning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I didn't even bother trying to write the Barton kids as neurotypical, lol. I don't know how NT kids work. A lot of their autistic behaviors and experiences are borrowed from/inspired by mine and my brother's, but please let me know if I've made some horrible mistake somewhere. 
> 
> I also made the mistake of making Cooper an artist and then being too lazy to actually draw his comic, so uh, you'll have to use your imagination.

**December 2010**

“So what’d you get me? Clint asks, grinning over at her. 

“You’ve asked me that for seven years, Barton,” scoffs Natasha. “And have I ever told you?”

“No, but you’ll crack someday,” Clint says cheerfully. “I can wait.”

“You’ll be waiting a long time.”

“You’ll slip. Unless you like, get a tattoo that says DON’T TELL CLINT WHAT YOU GOT HIM FOR CHRISTMAS.”

“Yes,” she deadpans. “That is exactly my plan. Right across my collarbone.”

“Who are you, Memento?”

That makes her splutter. “Do you think his _name_ is Memento? The _movie’s_ called _Memento,_ dope.” She reaches over to give him a playful shove. “You should know that, you’re the one who made me watch it.”

Clint yelps and says in a terrible squeaky British accent, “Now we see the violence inherent in the system! Come and see the violence inherent in the system! Help, help, I’m being repressed!”

“Alright, Monty Python,” she says, deliberately fucking up the reference just to see the look on his face.

The kids swarm her the instant she opens the door (Clint stays back to check on the engine, which started making a weird noise during the drive). “Auntie Nat!” yelps Lila, crashing into her leg and holding on tight. 

“Hi there, raptor,” Natasha says, picking her up to give her a tight hug. Cooper, who’s right on her heels, gives her a wave and a grin and she waves back. 

“Did you bring your knives?” Lila asks.

Natasha blinks. “Why are you asking?”

“Because I want to be like Finn and have a sword,” Lila says, as if it’s obvious. 

“You’re four,” Cooper points out. “I don’t think Auntie Nat is gonna just give you her knives.”

“_You_ don’t know that, Jake,” Lila says, sticking out her tongue, and then she starts to reach into Natasha’s pockets. 

“Delilah Janeway!” Laura snaps, emerging from the kitchen with a murderous expression. “We have _talked_ about this, you can’t just reach into peoples’ pockets!” She takes Lila from Natasha’s arms and sets her down on the ground unceremoniously. “You don’t like it when I touch you when you’re not expecting it or when I go through your things, right?”

“No,” Llla says sulkily. 

“Then don’t touch other people without asking,” Laura says, clearly exasperated. “Nat, I’m so sorry, they’ve been like wild dogs ever since I told them you were coming.”

“I’m used to it,” Natasha says with a smirk. 

“I haven’t,” Cooper protests. “I’ve been good.”

“Then _who_ did I find snooping in one of my secret present hiding spots this morning, mister?” Laura asks sternly. He suddenly becomes very interested in his feet. 

Clint comes inside with a cardboard box full of wrapped presents in his arms. “Ho ho ho!” he calls. “Merry Christmas!”

“Daddy!” yell both kids, their mother’s scolding already forgotten. He sets the box down and hugs them both.

Laura rolls her eyes and smiles. “Hi,” she says, coming over for a kiss. “How was the drive?” 

“Natasha wouldn’t tell me what she got me for Christmas _and_ she was mean to me.” He pouts, and Laura and Cooper giggle. 

“Oh no, you poor baby,” Laura says, kissing him again. “What a hardship. I’m surprised you didn’t make her walk the rest of the way.”

“No, she knows where my bunk is,” Clint says. He winks at Natasha, who says, “Darn right. I keep him in line when you’re not around to, Laur.”

“It’s much appreciated.”

Clint turns to the kids and says, “Hey, you guys wanna help me put these under the tree?” When this is met with ear-piercing shrieks of delight he says, “Okay, okay, let’s not break anybody’s eardrums, geez! C’mon, gremlins.” They tromp after him, chattering excitedly.

“So how are you?” Natasha asks Laura.

Laura shrugs. “Not that much going on. My column’s doing fine, getting some good feedback from the readers. They’re thinking about posting extra questions on the website every week but I’m not sure if I’ll have time for that while both kids aren’t in school yet. It’s still nonstop _Adventure Time _around here, which I guess is better than _SpongeBob_. They basically speak to each other in quotes at this point and I had to hide the rulers because they kept using them to swordfight. I’m really looking forward to having someone to watch grownup movies with, honestly.”

“I’m sorry in advance about Lila’s present from me,” Natasha says, not bothering to hide her smile. 

“It’s fine,” Laura chuckles. “But yeah. They’ve both been loving the bean box, and Lila’s getting better about putting herself in it when she’s feeling overwhelmed, or asking for a cushion sandwich. I told you about that, right? I swear, my brain’ll just fall out of my head someday.”

“Remind me.”

“It’s basically deep pressure stuff, you put a couch cushion on the floor and then have the kid lay on it and then you put another one on top of them and push. It really helps her, but Cooper hates it. Dr. Thomas says that’s okay and it just depends on the kid.” Laura shrugs. “She has had fewer meltdowns since we started doing that regularly, so that’s good. We’re still working on not biting.”

“Aw, but then we’ll have to find her a new nickname. And ‘raptor’ has such a nice ring to it.”

Laura grins. “Oh, she wouldn’t stand for that. She made Cooper design her a little superhero - VeLilaraptor she calls it. I mean, it’s basically just a vaguely dinosaur-shaped cartoon with a cape, but he still did a better job than I could. I’m sure she’ll show it to you while you’re here.”

“Cute.” 

Natasha’s about to ask if she needs any help when something falls over in the next room and both kids shriek. 

“Oh lord,” sighs Laura. “Sounds like someone knocked over the tree again. C’mon, let’s see what trouble those three have gotten into.”

The next three days are a blur of playing with the kids and hanging out with Clint and Laura, and it’s the nicest three days she’s had in a long time. After months of babysitting Tony Stark, the kids are a breeze, even when they’re having a bad day. Lila does, indeed, proudly show her the VeLilaraptor drawings Cooper’s done for her, and some of her own (which, well, she’s four, they’re basically scribbles, but it’s endearing anyway), and even gives her one to keep. Natasha promises to be very careful with it and tucks it into her pocket for safekeeping. 

Christmas morning brings with it two very excited kids and three groggy adults who are dragged out of their beds at the first sign of light. “Coffee?” Clint asks with an enormous yawn as Lila and Cooper sit on the couch and stare impatiently at the tree, waiting for the adults to settle in. 

“Please.” Laura starts to pass out the presents.

When Lila unwraps a replica of the sword from _Adventure Time_ (a toy not technically sold in stores yet, which Natasha had to resort to interesting methods to get), she screams so loudly that they can all hear the chickens clucking in alarm outside. 

“That’s what aunts are for,” Natasha says, when Laura and Clint shoot her identical glares. “To buy them the cool toys their parents won’t.”

Cooper’s present doesn’t elicit nearly the same volume of reaction, but she knows he loves it - it’s a complete set of _Calvin and Hobbes,_ which is his favorite comic, and also a set of _Encyclopedia Brown_ books. He’s still a little young to read them by himself, but the _Calvin and Hobbes _strips with the detective character are his favorite and she’s got a good feeling about this. (Apparently detective novels for five year olds are somewhat hard to come by, which seems silly to her.) He gives her a grateful nod, which she understands.

That night, after the kids are in bed, Clint turns in early and Laura asks her, “You wanna watch _Die Hard_? I haven’t had time yet this year and I’m dying to.”

She can’t say no to that, of course.

\---

**August 2023**

Tony’s funeral is surprisingly restrained - there are only about a dozen people in attendance and there aren’t even any fireworks or twenty-one gun salutes. Tony Stark may have been a grade A pain in her ass most of the time, but Natasha was fond of him. She gives Pepper a tight hug and slips a note into her purse to read later, away from the crowds. Pepper doesn’t need her tearful condolences, even if she wanted to give them. 

Laura doesn’t come to Tony’s funeral; why would she? Natasha communicates with her via a series of terse emails and phone calls, making travel plans for the funeral, small as it’s going to be. Clint’s parents are dead, his asshole older brother estranged and god knows where. It seems besides the Avengers, a few from SHIELD, and Laura and the kids, Clint didn’t have much in the way of connections. Considering the laundry list of crimes he committed in the last five years, a public service, even for a founding Avengers member, seems ill-advised.

So it’s Natasha, Fury, Wanda, Steve, Sam, and Scott who board the plane. Steve insisted on coming because “it’s the least I can do.” Natasha’s not sure he’s not also coming to be there for Wanda on the trip back. Wanda is the sort of person who needs to know that someone will listen to her sadness, even if she doesn’t actually want to talk about it. And Steve is much better at that than Fury, whose response to grief is generally a bottle of something strong and a respectful silence. Scott…comes because he looked like a lost puppy and nobody had the heart to tell him to stay home.

Most of them doze during the flight. Scott tries to entertain Wanda with magic tricks, which Wanda seems to find mostly amusing (it’s hard to hate Scott’s earnestness about it). Natasha sits next to Steve, who in his quiet empathetic way senses her need for space and gives it. Natasha has a pen and a notebook in front of her, and she stares at them for the whole flight and doesn’t write a word. How do you talk about one of the most important people in your life once he’s gone? How do you say what he meant to you in five minutes or less?

Once they’ve landed, Fury speaks to someone at the car rental company and suddenly they’re being handed the keys to a shiny tanklike SUV. “Shotgun!” Scott says, opening the passenger side door. 

Fury snorts. “Whatever. Who’s driving? Nat?”

“I’ll do navigation,” Natasha says quickly.

“I’ll drive,” Steve volunteers. “Actually, Scott, I think I need Nat up front with me to navigate, if that’s alright.”

“Aw,” Scott groans, but hops in the back without further complaint.

The farm is an hour’s drive from the airport. Aside from directions, Steve only tries to talk to her once. “You doing okay?” he asks, too low for anyone but her to hear over Sam’s Spotify playlist (which was the only music they could all agree on). 

She rolls her eyes. “I’m fine, Rogers.”

“You aren’t,” he counters. “You lost more than any of us.”

“I’m fine.”

Steve glances over at her. “You’re doing this with _me_?”

Okay, that stings a little. “I don’t need to talk about it, Steve.”

“Okay, well, maybe I need to talk about it.”

She shakes her head. “Not here. Later.”

He sighs and nods. “Later. Tonight.”

The bad thing about not talking is that Natasha’s mind wanders and she’s too exhausted to stop it. For some reason, what her mind settles on is her hair. 

“Hey,” she says quietly, after turning it over in her head for a few minutes. Steves’ head whips around to look at her. “Does my hair look okay?”

Steve stares at her, comically baffled. “It looks fine,” he says, and it sort of sounds like he’s afraid he’s being set up for something.

That makes her snort. “I’m not gonna bite you.”

“In my defense, you’ve never asked me about your hair before.” He chuckles. “Not that it’s any of my business, but I like it long like this. The blonde tips don’t do much for you, though.”

“Noted.” Natasha smirks at him.

“I mean, there are showers and stuff there,” Steve adds. “You’ll look fine tomorrow, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

“That’s not why I asked.”

“Okay.” He shrugs. “Does this have to do with the talking we’re not doing right now?”

“Sort of,” she says, not looking at him.

“Nat.”

“Later.”

There hasn’t been a lot of downtime for her to imagine what it’ll be like seeing Laura again. In fact, she’s been doing her best to _not_ think about Laura for so long that the realization that _oh god she’s going to see Laura again_ doesn’t hit her until they’re pulling into the farm’s long driveway. It feels like a dream, but maybe not a good one, because Clint’s dead and she shouldn’t be happy about seeing _his wife_ because he’s dead.

Laura comes out to meet them, and Natasha gets out of the car first. They meet each other halfway and stand there face to face for a second, then Laura throws her arms around Natasha and just holds on. They stand there for what feels like an impossibly long time, then Laura steps back and gives her a shaky smile. “Hi,” she says. She waves awkwardly at the others. 

“Laura,” Fury says, nodding respectfully. “Nice to see you again. I wish it was under better circumstances.”

“Thanks,” Laura replies. “Come in, all of you.” She looks like she did the last time Natasha saw her, the last Christmas before the Snap: face a little thinner, eyes a little redder, but still beautiful. “I’m sorry we don’t have enough rooms for you all,” she calls over her shoulder as they file into the house. “It’s all been sort of last-minute.” There are only two guest rooms at the Barton house, and Natasha and Wanda are already doubling up in one of them. Steve and Sam take the other, after much insisting from Fury and Scott.

“It’s okay!” Scott chirps. “I love camping. Cassie and I do it every summer. Or, I guess, we used to. Maybe she won’t want to anymore. She’s fifteen now. I don’t know if she still wants to go camping. When she was ten she loved it, though. We took our bikes and-”

Sam coughs and Scott trails off awkwardly. “Want us to start setting up the tents, Laura?” Sam asks.

Laura nods. “Yes, that’s a good idea. Coop!” After a few seconds, Cooper clomps down the stairs and looks at her expectantly. “Can you show them where to set up the tents, please?”

He grunts and goes out the back door, not looking at Natasha at all. She’s not offended. He’s fourteen and his dad’s dead - he doesn’t owe her anything.

Lila, on the other hand, melts out of the shadows and nestles against Natasha. “Hi,” she says, sounding more like a five year old than a thirteen year old. 

“Hey, kiddo.” Natasha wraps her arms around Lila, tight like she likes to be held. “Missed you.”

“Yeah,” Lila says. “I got a bullseye.”

“Wow,” Natasha says, and she has to swallow hard before she continues, “Nice job. Did you hang it up yet?”

“No. It was right before...the thing happened, and when we got back it was gone. Someone stole it. I wanted to find them and beat them up, but Mom said that wouldn’t be practical.”

Natasha shakes her head. “Probably not. I bet they were long gone.”

Lila grunts. “I guess. It’s stupid.”

“It is,” Natasha agrees. “Bet you can do it again, though. I’ll watch.”

“Okay,” Lila says. “I’ve been practicing but I haven’t got another one yet. Have you seen Pete 2 yet?”

“Not yet. I just got here, remember?”

“Let’s go now,” insists Lila. 

“I wanted to talk to your mom first, okay? Let’s meet down at the paddock in…” Natasha glances at her phone. “Half an hour.”

Lila dutifully checks her own watch. “Okay,” she says. “Half an hour. I’m gonna go feed her now.”

“See you, raptor.” 

Natasha doesn’t want to bother Laura right away, so she goes to unpack some of her things in the usual guest room. Wanda’s asleep on the bed, but she’s got her noise-cancelling headphones on so Natasha just does her best to keep quiet. After a few minutes, there’s a quiet tap on the doorframe and she hears Laura say, “Hi.”

“Hi.” Natasha turns and really _looks_ at Laura. She looks exhausted and sad and Natasha suddenly wants to hug her so badly, but even though Laura initiated the hug earlier, she doesn’t want to misstep. 

“Your hair’s different,” Laura says, with a throaty laugh that could be a sob.

Natasha reaches up to fiddle with her braid. “Yeah. Y’know, I thought maybe I’d try something new, see if I had more fun.”

“Did you?”

“Nope.” Natasha smiles ruefully. “I haven’t had time for fun lately.”

“I’m sorry.” 

Natasha shrugs. “Comes with the job.” She hesitates, then adds, “You know I’m here, right? If you want anything.”

Laura nods, swallowing loudly. “Yeah,” she says, and her voice cracks for just a second. “We all missed you, y’know.”

Natasha quirks an eyebrow. “How’s Nate?”

“He’s...he’s having a nonverbal period right now. I can get him out of bed okay, he’ll do his chores, eat his peanut butter sandwich for lunch, he just hasn’t said anything since I told them about...you know. He’s been signing a little, at least, and we’ve got appointments with a grief counselor for all three of them later in the month, but it’s…” She sighs. “He hasn’t cried yet, although he had a meltdown at the grocery store the other day, poor kid. None of them have cried, but the doctor said that can be totally normal. Lila’s mostly been out in the barn or paddock with Pete 2, and Cooper went out and chopped a bunch of wood right after I told them and then watched four hours of _Project Runway_ with me. He drew me some caricatures of the hosts.”

“Aw.” Natasha smiles. “And you?”

“I’m...getting by.” Laura doesn’t meet Natasha’s eyes. Then suddenly she does, and it makes Natasha feel like she’s on fire. “I miss him, Tasha,” she whispers, and it’s been so long since Laura called her that name that Natasha almost falls over.

“I miss him too,” Natasha murmurs, taking a step toward Laura. “And...I missed you.”

And that’s all it takes. Laura falls against her like they’ve never been apart, burying her face in Natasha’s shoulder and crying. Natasha wraps her arms around her and holds onto her like she might...well, disappear. She doesn’t cry, but she does close her eyes.

After a couple of minutes, Laura steps back, sniffling. “I’m sorry,” she gasps. “I don’t, I shouldn’t have-”

“It’s okay,” Natasha says. “It’s okay.”

Laura retreats to the door. “I - I need to get dinner started,” she says, voice only shaking a little. “It’s just stew, nothing fancy, but there are so many of you…”

“I’ll come help,” Natasha promises. “After I go see Pete 2. I promised Lila.” She checks the time on her phone. “In like ten minutes. But after that.”

“Alright.” Laura looks back at her one last time before she leaves, and it takes every ounce of Natasha’s self-control not to follow her.

Instead, she turns back to her suitcase. She’s carefully unpacking shirts when she hears a soft voice say, “Natasha?”

Her head whips around to see Wanda blinking up at her from the bed. “Hey,” Natasha says. “Sorry, did we wake you?”

Wanda shakes her head. “I’m alright.” 

But that’s not an answer to the question Natasha asked. “You can go back to sleep,” Natasha says. “I’m heading out to the barn pretty soon, so it should be quiet again. Dinner won’t be for a couple hours and-”

“I’m sorry,” Wanda whispers.

Natasha frowns. “For what? I’m the one that woke you up.”

“Well, I try really hard not to listen, but I was asleep and it’s harder to control when I’m asleep, and you were so loud I could feel it in my dream and I just-”

“Wanda?” Natasha interrupts her. “What do you mean?”

Wanda blushes. “You and Laura. When you were holding her, you had such a surge of emotion that it...it woke me up. I felt what you feel for her. You love her, don’t you?”

_Shit._

Natasha pauses, swallows, then says, “Of course. I love Laura and the kids, they’re my family like Clint is.” _Was. _Realising she’s used the wrong tense feels like a punch in the throat.

Wanda gives her an appraising look. Natasha hates this, hates that Wanda can see through the carefully constructed layers of protection she’s made for herself. She doesn’t hate _Wanda _for it - that would be like hating the wind for knocking over a tree. But it’s a vulnerability that she’s still not used to. Finally Wanda says, “If you say so, Natasha,” and lays back down.

She still has almost fifteen minutes before she’s supposed to meet Lila, but Natasha leaves the house like it’s on fire anyway. She goes to sit under one of the big trees, the one Cooper and Lila liked to climb when they were smaller, and pretends like she’s napping. Really, she’s cursing herself for being so fucking _stupid._

Lila’s brushing Pete 2 when she enters the barn. “Hey,” Natasha calls. “How’s Pete 2 doing?”

“Good. I tried taking her over a jump I made earlier but she didn’t get it. It’s probably because she’s part Quarter Horse and they don’t train them to jump very often, but I just wanted to see what would happen.” Lila shrugs. 

“Those are the kind of horses that cowboys use, right?” Lila’s told her so much about horses over the years that it’s hard to remember most of it, but she does try.

“Yeah.” Lila pauses to untangle a knot in Pete 2’s mane, then she adds, “Mom said we can’t rent a cannon for tomorrow.”

Natasha blinks. “A cannon?” Sometimes she can follow Lila’s trains of thought just fine, but she’s really out of practice.

“Because he died,” Lila explains. “Like in _The Hunger Games._ I wanted to rent a cannon and shoot it like he was a tribute, but Mom said there’s a fire warning so we can’t.”

“Oh.” That makes sense. Laura always encourages her to buy the kids books as presents, so she sent Lila a boxed set of _The Hunger Games_ for her tenth birthday, and now it’s one of her special interests. Which wasn’t exactly Natasha’s intention, but it did get her into archery (and she does the District 12 salute whenever she says goodbye to someone, which is just cute). “Well, your mom’s probably right about that, but it’s a nice idea.”

Lila shrugs. “I asked Dad once if I could do it and he said he thought it sounded cool. But I looked it up before I asked and it costs hundreds of dollars, so I can’t pay for it myself. But if I could he’d be okay with it.”

Against her better judgment, Natasha laughs. “Yeah, that sounds like your dad.”

They’re both quiet for a minute. “Are you wearing a dress tomorrow?” Lila asks. “Mom says girls usually wear dresses to funerals, but I don’t own any black dresses.”

“I’m wearing a dress, but you don’t have to,” Natasha says. “Pants are fine.”

Lila looks relieved. “Good. I hate dresses. And Dad knew that and I don’t think he’d want me to wear one.”

“Do you wanna talk about him?” Natasha asks.

Lila considers this, then shakes her head. “Not today. Maybe another day. Sorry.”

“No need to apologize, sweetheart,” Natasha says. “You can talk whenever you’re ready to talk.”

“Yeah. You should talk to Mom. She and Cooper have been talking about him some.”

Natasha nods. “I will. Thanks.”

\---

After dinner, which is a quiet affair, Steve nudges her and asks, “You wanna go for a walk?”

Natasha does not, in fact, want to go for a walk, but she knows if she doesn’t go on a walk with him now he’ll keep pestering until he gets her alone to talk, so she sighs and agrees. They head toward the little woods at the edge of the property. 

“So,” Steve asks, “how are you doing?”

Natasha snorts. “I’m fine, Rogers.”

“Are you sure? You lost more than any of us.”

“What do you mean by that?”

He’s making a face of keen discomfort. “Well, Barton was...I know he meant a lot to you. I know the two of you were close.” The question he’s not asking hangs in the air.

“Spit it out, Steve.” She’s not upset by it. The rumors have been flying at SHIELD ever since Clint first brought her back: that she seduced him to infiltrate SHIELD, that she fell in love with him and followed him home, that they’ve been involved for years and Clint’s wife never knew, that they have a secret lovechild...on and on and on. All ridiculous, of course. 

Steve coughs. “Were you two...involved at all?”

It’s comforting, the predictability of most people. “No,” she says, smiling wryly. “Everyone thought so. You don’t have to be embarrassed. We occasionally went undercover as a couple, but we never fucked. He was my best friend and my work partner. That’s all.”

Steve is nodding slowly, like he’s thinking. “So all those trips out ‘to the farm’ were-”

“-actually trips to the farm to see Laura and the kids, yes,” She rolls her eyes. “What, did you think we were jetsetting off to Europe for romantic weekend getaways?”

Steve laughs, which makes her laugh too. “Alright, alright, you’ve made your point. Anyway. You still lost more than any of us, and I wanted to make sure you had someone to talk to, if you wanted it.”

“That’s nice of you.” And she genuinely means that; it _is_ nice of Steve to want to be there for her. “I’ll be okay, Steve.”

“Okay.” He puts his hands in his pockets. “I’m glad you’re staying at the farm for a little while to help Laura out. It’s, it’s really good of you.”

“Yep. Normally they have things under control, but it’s gonna be rough the first couple weeks. And we have, y’know, a few years to catch up on.”

Steve snorts. “Something like that, yeah. It’s nice that you and Laura get along so well.”

“It is.” She can tell from his tone that he’s starting to put the pieces together. Better play it cool. “She’s quite a woman. Clint was a lucky guy.”

“Seems like it. How long have you two known each other again?”

“Mm, I don’t know. Sixteen, seventeen years? The first Christmas I was here, Clint pestered me until I came home with him. He didn’t want me to be all alone, the big softie. That’s when Laura and I first met.” Natasha keeps her tone even and light, like she’s just talking about an old friend she sees a few times a year. “She never made a thing out of me and Clint. I liked that. Not everyone would be so understanding.”

“That’s nice.” She can hear him not-asking a question again. 

“What other intrusive thing are you dying to ask me, Rogers? Should we just make this into a game of twenty questions?”

“Well, I don’t want to pressure you.”

She snorts so loudly that she startles a bird pecking the ground a few yards away from them. “What, are you gonna offer me a joint next?”

He laughs and shakes his head. “No. I just…” A long pause. Then, “Look, not like it’s any of my business, but if I’ve learned anything over the last eighty years, it’s that you should tell people when you care about them.”

“Clint knew how much I cared about him.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it, Romanoff.”

“So Laura then? Laura knows too. That’s the whole reason I’m staying an extra week.”

“You’re ridiculous.” He’s grinning now. “Alright, fine, don’t tell me. But tell _her._” He pauses for a second and then he says, “So, Clint.”

“Yeah?”

“Can we talk about him a little?” His tone is casual, but his eyes are sad. “Just fifteen minutes or whatever. I wasn’t close to him the way you were but I...I’d like to talk about him.”

And it’s Steve, so she says okay and they do and it’s kind of nice. Steve sheds a few tears, and she doesn’t, but she doesn’t mind that he does. That’s just his way.

\---

She volunteers to put Nate to bed. She usually does when she’s staying over, because Nate loves it when she reads his bedtime story - she’s a “good reader,” apparently. The schedule always goes: bathtime, brushing teeth, glass of water, bedtime story, sleep. It’s a comfortable rhythm.

Usually bathtime is pretty easy, except when it’s time to wash Nate’s hair (he and Cooper both hate getting water in their eyes, and Nate’s very sensitive about wet hair touching his skin). But tonight when she tries to herd him into the bathroom, Nate parks himself in the doorway and refuses to go any further, screaming when Natasha tries (only once) to pick him up. “Hey, Nate,” she says, “I’m gonna go talk to you mom for a sec, okay? Stay right there.” He doesn’t say anything, of course, but he signs “yes.”

Laura’s watching a movie with Lila, Steve, and Sam, and they all look so peaceful Natasha hates to interrupt. “Um,” she says, “I don’t think Nate’s gonna take a bath tonight.”

“He hasn’t liked being in the water lately,” sighs Laura. “I think it’s too much sensation all at once. Try offering him a soapy washcloth? Sponge baths aren’t the best, but I don’t want to push him right now.”

So Natasha goes back and finds Nate sitting exactly where she left him. “Hey, Nate,” she says, “how about we use a washcloth instead of taking a real bath? Your mom said that might be better for you. We don’t have to wash your hair tonight either. I just want to make sure you don’t stink tomorrow.”

He nods and puts out his hand, like he was expecting her to have it immediately. That makes her smile as she goes to get one for him. 

A few minutes later, he’s standing in front of his little red bookshelf to pick out a bedtime story. Eventually he brings back _Ferdinand,_ one of his favorites, and Natasha tucks him in alongside his comically large plush unicorn, Swiftwind. She reads _Ferdinand_ for what feels like the hundredth time (and marvels at the ability of kids, and especially _this_ kid, to enjoy the same stories over and over and over again). 

Nate holds up Swiftwind for a kiss goodnight, like always, and she obliges. “Sleep well, buddy,” she says as she closes the door.

\---

The morning of Clint’s funeral is clear and warm, a perfect spring day. Natasha would happily strangle the birds singing outside.

Laura’s bustling around the kitchen making breakfast. “Agent May should be here within an hour,” she says by way of greeting. “She’ll be landing over near the other end of the field. Make sure Lila doesn’t let Pete 2 out while the plane is here, will you? I don’t want her to get spooked.”

So Laura’s all business this morning. Natasha can work with that. “Sure.”

After a quick morning shower, she opens the back door to go feed the chickens and almost runs into Sam. “Oops!” He gives her a sheepish grin. “Sorry, Steve and I went for a run this morning. He’s still out there, the weirdo.”

“Naturally.” Natasha snorts fondly. “I’m just gonna go feed the chickens and get eggs, you wanna come?”

“Well, I stink, but if you can handle that then sure,” Sam jokes, backing up to let her out. 

“I think I’ll survive.”

She shows Sam how to gently reach under the hens and feel for eggs, then leaves him to it while she grabs the bag of feed. Luckily for him, the chickens all know what to expect and most of them climb off their nests and bolt for the feeder when they see her coming, so he doesn’t have too many grumpy hens to contend with. The rooster, Zeus, lets his hens eat first as usual and comes over to peck at Natasha’s shoes curiously.

“Must be nice being a chicken,” Sam calls as he grabs the last egg. “Nothing to worry about but eating, sleeping, and laying eggs. Sounds like a hell of a life.”

“And pretty much any animal larger than you that wants to eat you,” Natasha points out wryly. 

“Wow, Romanoff, buzzkill much?”

“Yep, that’s me. Ask Steve, home base was a no-buzz zone for the last five years.”

Sam laughs, but then he looks a bit sad. “Steve told me some of what you guys did while we were all...gone. I’m glad you’re taking a break.”

“Not sure how much of a break it’ll be,” Natasha says, smirking. “These kids keep us pretty busy.”

“Still. Keeping track of three kids on one farm as opposed to a bunch of adults constantly getting sent on missions all over the world? Piece of cake.” Sam winks at her. “And you’ll have Laura too. She seems great.”

“She is.” Sam doesn’t know her as well as Steve does, so she’s not as worried that he’ll be able to read anything into that. “She’s-”

But before she can finish the sentence, there’s a rushing noise from above, which is getting louder every second. “Agent May’s here,” she shouts to be heard above the wind. Zeus starts herding all the hens back into the chicken coop, a few of them clucking nervously.

Sam heads back inside, but Natasha waits to meet May once she’s fully landed. They haven’t seen each other since the first year of the Snap - there just wasn’t time. But they’ve kept up with the occasional texting session or quick phone call, just enough to remind each other they’re there. 

“Hey stranger,” she calls as Melinda descends out of the plane.

“Hey,” Melinda says, coming forward to meet her. They share a quick hug. Neither of them are huggy by nature, of course, but it seems appropriate now. “Doing okay?”

Natasha shrugs. “Been better, but I’ll be alright. How was your flight?”

“Nothing exciting. There hardly ever is that early, that’s why I like it.” Melinda smirks. “Everybody inside?”

“Should be. Rogers might still be out on a run, but everybody else is getting ready for later.” 

Melinda makes a face that would read as neutral to anyone else, but Natasha knows is sympathy. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I don’t really have the luxury of not being okay,” Natasha says, and it’s more honest than she’s been with anyone else so far (besides Laura). 

“I brought the good whiskey, if you want some later.”

“I’ll probably take you up on that. Fury might too.”

“Of course.”

The next few hours pass in a blur of preparations: setting up the chairs, making sure Steve (who is leading the funeral) has a list of speakers, getting Nate out of bed and making sure he’s fed (half a blueberry bagel with cream cheese for breakfast, a peanut butter sandwich and apple slices for lunch, just like always). Nobody wanted anything too flashy, so a few people are speaking and then they’re closing it out with Pat Benetar’s “Hit Me With Your Best Shot,” which Laura swears up and down was the only thing he had told her he wanted at his funeral. “I asked him so many times over the years, just in case, and that’s what he always said!”

So finally, they all congregate in the backyard around one PM, where Laura’s set up the podium and microphone in front of all the chairs. (Natasha took care of getting that, and what a stupid thing to have to learn about in the middle of all this: podium rental.) Steve taps the mic a few times and then coughs quietly. “Hi everyone,” he says, even though he really doesn’t have to, but it’s Steve so he does anyway. “We’re gathered here to remember Clinton Francis Barton, devoted husband and father, expert marksman, longtime Agent of SHIELD, and founding member of the Avengers. Clint was dedicated to protecting those he loved and ensuring that they were kept safe, and he was fiercely loyal not only to his family, but also his principles. He served as an Agent of SHIELD for almost a decade before joining myself and the rest of our teammates in the Battle of New York, heroically risking his life to protect the city and everyone in it. I was proud to call him not only my teammate, but also my friend, from that point on.”

Steve goes on for a little while longer about Clint: how he was always ready with a devastating quip at just the right moment, how he and Natasha had years-long prank wars with other SHIELD agents, the warm way he spoke about his family to the few who had the privilege of knowing about them. Natasha tunes it out; to be honest, she doesn’t really care what Steve has to say. It was good of him to volunteer to conduct the service, but it’s like he said to her: he didn’t really _know_ Clint. Steve doesn’t know to talk about how Clint knew the words to every single One Direction song (he insisted it was because the kids liked them but Natasha knows they’re still his top played artist on Spotify), that he loved pineapple on pizza so much that he was part of multiple Facebook groups defending it, and that he told her once when he was really drunk that he kind of enjoyed killing people if he knew they were _really _bad. 

She doesn’t shed a tear, and neither does Laura, who sits next to her ramrod straight. The kids are on Laura’s other side - Cooper doodling so hard that Natasha’s surprised he doesn’t rip a hole in his little sketchbook, Lila playing with her fingers and staring at the ground, and Nate silent and still, holding Swiftwind tight.

She never did write the damn eulogy. She could have told Steve she didn’t want to give one, but that feels worse than winging it. So, when he invites her up, she goes to the podium and clears her throat. “Clint was my best friend,” she says. “And he was my partner, but he was so much more than that. He was my family.” She glances at Laura and continues, “He, and Laura, made space for me in a way that no one had before. He believed in me, even when no one else did. And...he’s the only person who’s seen me do karaoke.” There’s a wave of titters at this, and it makes her smile a little before she continues, “Even when he was being a colossal pain in my ass, I knew he always had my back. I couldn’t have asked for a better partner, or brother. I’m gonna miss the stupid bastard.”

There’s another wave of nervous giggles as she sits back down, which she takes as a good sign. Steve, who probably wasn’t expecting quite so much swearing, chuckles and asks for Fury to speak, and Laura reaches over to grab her hand and squeeze it. “Thank you,” she murmurs.

It wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t nearly all she would’ve wanted him to hear, but it’ll do, Natasha thinks.

\----

Thank god for the fridge full of casseroles, because nobody seems inclined to try to cook dinner, least of all Laura. Natasha turns on the oven without even asking. 

Nate will usually eat whatever the rest of the family is eating, but both he and Lila have maybe a mouthful apiece of the lasagna she heated up before spitting them out. Nate signs “sandwich” and Lila gets up from the table. “I’ll do it.”

No one seems bothered by this. Laura, who’s been quiet since the funeral, calls softly, “There’s both grape and raspberry jelly in the fridge.”

Dinner is a muted affair, with minimal conversation, and afterwards it seems like everyone goes their separate ways. Laura goes out to do the evening chores, and when Natasha offers to help, Laura shakes her head. “Watch the kids?” Natasha nods. She can do that.

Lila wants to watch a movie, so after Natasha puts Nate to bed they park themselves on the couch in front of _Brave._ Steve, Sam, and Wanda join in. Natasha gets the box of tissues off the coffee table and puts it within Lila’s reach. Lila always cries at the end of this movie (Natasha’s seen it with her approximately a hundred times). 

Sam texts her during the opening scenes. _Does the mom die in this movie?_

_No, nobody dies. It’s just Lila’s favorite. _

_Okay, my actual question was: am *I* gonna cry during this movie?_

Natasha smiles before replying, _It’s a mother-daughter movie. I never cry at it, but you might. I’m sure Steve will. He’s a softie._

_Great. Might need those tissues over here then._

_She gets first dibs, Wilson. :P_

_Don’t worry, I wouldn’t dare challenge that. :)_

Natasha’s never cried at a movie. Clint was determined to find one that would break that streak, which is why their movie nights mostly consisted of either sentimental shlock (_Marley & Me,_ _The Notebook_) or historical dramas featuring dead kids (_Sophie’s Choice,_ _Grave of the Fireflies_). Almost every time, the movie would end with Clint in tears and Natasha patting him on the back. It’s not that Natasha doesn’t find dead kids or animals sad, but, well, it’s fiction. And even the ones based on real tragedies didn’t tug at her heartstrings the way they were supposed to. She doesn’t _not_ care, it just doesn’t work that way for her.

So she’s a little envious of the rest of them, as she watches them react to _Brave._ It must be nice to be part of this collective release of emotion. But that’s not how it works for her.

When the movie’s over, Lila blows her nose one last time and then leans over to hug Natasha. “Good night.”

“Night,” Natasha calls after her. 

She and Wanda both decide to turn in early. It’s barely eleven PM, but Natasha feels like she’s been awake for days. Still, once she’s tucked into bed and shut her eyes, Natasha finds herself unable to sleep. But she also doesn’t feel like crying. She’s not sure she ever will. 

She pretends to sleep, even though Wanda’s definitely asleep for real (her breathing deep and even). It’s maybe an hour, maybe two, when she hears a quiet rapping on the door.

Natasha freezes. It’s almost certainly not a threat, but her body starts to prepare for a fight all the same. 

She waits. The tapping repeats. A soft voice says, “Natasha?”

It’s Laura. Of course it’s Laura.

Natasha goes to open the door, and Laura is standing there, a thousand emotions on her face (and she’s never been good at hiding them). “Hi,” she whispers. “I’m sorry, I know it’s late…”

“What do you need?”

Laura swallows. “It’s silly but I...I can’t sleep. The bed feels empty. It’s been empty before, I guess, but I just…” She sighs. “Will you come and sit with me for awhile? Or you can sleep on the other side, if you want, I don’t care, I’d just really like you to be there.”

Natasha doesn’t even hesitate. She nods and follows Laura out, glancing back to make sure Wanda is still asleep before closing the door behind her. 

Once they’re in Laura’s room, Laura sits on the bed, looking a little lost. “I feel so ridiculous,” she sighs. “Like a little kid or something, scared of being in her room alone. Or not scared, but, you know. It’s not as if I haven’t slept in this bed alone hundreds of nights before.”

Natasha sits down next to her. “Yeah, but those times you knew he was coming back,” she says gently. “It’s different.”

Laura nods, leaning against her. “Yeah,” she replies, voice thick. “It’s so weird, it...it feels like it’s not real but it also feels like it’s the _only_ thing that’s real.”

Natasha laughs but not like it’s actually funny. “I know the feeling.”

They both just sit there for a minute, breathing. Laura’s body is warm and relaxed against Natasha’s. She’s close enough that Natasha can smell her shampoo - that stuff that comes in the purple bottle with the kangaroo on it. Pepper sent her an article once about how smell is one of the strongest aphrodisiacs and the brain responds to certain smells it associates with a particular person even years after a breakup. “Thank you for being here,” Laura whispers finally. “I don’t...I’m not sure what I’d do if you weren’t.”

Natasha shrugs, unsure how to respond to that. “You’d be okay. You’re a badass.”

“I’m serious.” Laura shifts so she can look Natasha in the eyes. “You and I are the only ones who really _knew_ him. And you’ve always known him in a way I couldn’t.”

Natasha shrugs again. “You were with him for longer than I was. And wife beats work partner any day.”

“You were more than that to him,” Laura insists. “And you’re more than that to _me_. I…” Her voice cracks and she pauses a second, swallowing hard. “Can we keep talking about this in bed, please?”

Tilting her head, Natasha asks, “You sure?”

“Yeah. C’mon.” Laura tucks herself under the covers and then moves them back to invite Natasha in next to her. 

This is _way_ more than Natasha had dared to think of when she was preparing to come here. It’s been fifteen years since she’s been in this bed, but the second she slides in beside Laura she feels totally at home. Laura hums and nestles her back against her, asking without words to be the little spoon. Natasha blinks. “You okay?” 

“I missed this,” Laura murmurs. “I missed _you_, Tasha.”

Natasha freezes. This _really_ wasn’t what she was expecting. Being here, with Laura, in her bed, and Laura using that nickname like no time has passed between them. “What were you saying about Clint?” she asks hoarsely. 

Laura’s quiet for a little while. Then she says, “I’m sorry. You can leave if you want. I don’t want to make things weird.”

Honestly, Natasha’s more than a little freaked out, but she _definitely _doesn’t want to leave, and that’s terrifying to her in an entirely different way than the last five years have been. It makes her feel like she’s nineteen again, in a way that unsettles her down to her bones. She swallows around the lump that’s lodged itself in her throat. “No, I...I missed you too, Laura.”

“Okay,” Laura says, sounding sleepy and wistful. “Can you tell me some stories about him? I want to hear about the adventures you never mentioned.”

Natasha nods, pulling Laura closer despite her misgivings. “Did I ever tell you what exactly happened in Budapest?”

Laura chuckles. “Clint told me something but I’m guessing he was bullshitting me.”

“He definitely was. So this actually starts with a prank war we had going against Hill and Hartley…”

\---

Natasha blinks awake, hearing Zeus crowing. It takes her a moment to take in the pale green walls and quilted blanket, so different from the warm but generic yellow walls of the Bartons’ guest rooms. The bed is warm and soft and Laura is snuggled in her arms. The night before comes back to her slowly, like a dream of a dream.

She lies there a moment, not sure if she should try to disentangle herself from Laura or not. Luckily, after a minute of uncertainty she feels Laura shift under her and mumble, “Hi.”

“Hi.” Natasha smiles despite herself. “Sleep okay?”

Laura snorts. “I slept, at least. You?”

Natasha makes a noncommittal noise. “Had better. Had worse.”

“Yeah.” Laura pauses, then says, “The others are heading out after breakfast, right?”

“Yeah, their flight leaves at like one thirty. I figure after they’re gone you can sneak in a nap. The kids and I can handle the chores.”

“My god, that sounds amazing. You’re an angel, Tasha.”

“Oh, I’m anything but,” Natasha says wryly, ignoring the stupid skipping her heart is doing. “Still, I’ve got your back.”

“You know, one of the things I _didn’t_ miss about you is your complete inability to accept a compliment,” Laura scolds, but Natasha can hear the smile in her voice. “Let me be nice to you, goddammit.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Natasha teases her. Footsteps sound outside the bedroom door and she sighs. “I’d better go get dressed. Want help with breakfast?”

“Sure. It’s Lila’s turn to get the eggs, will you make sure she’s moving?”

Natasha nods and heads for Lila’s room. When she opens the door, Lila’s glaring at her groggily, bags under her eyes. “Morning,” Natasha says. “Your mom says it’s your turn to get eggs.”

Lila grunts “I know” and starts to close the door. Natasha puts her foot in the way just long enough to ask, “You okay?”

“No,” grumbles Lila. “Didn’t sleep.”

It breaks Natasha’s heart a little. “You and me both, kiddo.”

A few hours later, once they’ve seen the rest of the Avengers off, Natasha tries to herd the kids into finishing the chores. This goes...poorly.

She sends Laura and Nate to the barn to let Pete 2 out while she and Cooper pick apples. Cooper’s been quiet for awhile, but she doesn’t expect him to be leaning against the tree dozing when she finally glances over at him. “Hey, Coop?” Natasha says, first quietly and then louder. “Coop? Cooper?”

The boy starts. “Sorry.” He yawns and reaches for another apple. 

“How about you take a break while I go check on Lila and Nate?” 

He nods and slumps down on the ground, back against the tree and eyes shut almost before his ass hits the ground. 

Inside the barn, it’s unnaturally quiet. Lila’s perched on Pete 2’s back, dozing, while the mare lips at her feed. One ear turns toward Natasha as she enters, but otherwise the horse is clearly trying not to jostle Lila. Nate is passed out on one of the hay bales nearby.

“Hey, buddy,” Natasha says, moving very quietly so as not to startle him. (Nate gets punchy if you touch him while he’s sleeping.) “Nate? Wake up, buddy.”

After a couple more tries, Nate’s body jerks and he sits up, rubbing his eyes. “C’mon,” Natasha says, “let’s get your sister. I think you all need a nap in a real bed.” He must be tired, because Nate gets up right away and stumbles over to her. 

She brings all three kids, who are so exhausted they’re barely able to walk straight, back to the house. Laura is napping on the couch. “Don’t wake her up,” Natasha murmurs, but Nate immediately runs over to grab a pillow from one of the chairs and plop down on the floor next to the couch.

“He wants to nap with Mom,” Cooper explains, even though that’s pretty obvious.

He wasn’t even speaking loudly, but Laura jerks awake anyway. “Hi guys,” she says sleepily, squinting up at them. “Everything okay?” Then she notices Nate. “Sweetie, you don’t have to sleep on the floor. C’mon, let’s go to bed.”

She picks him up, heading for the bedroom, and calls over her shoulder, “C’mon, bunny, raptor, you too.” Cooper and Lila both follow her.

Natasha hesitates. This is clearly supposed to be a family moment, and she doesn’t want to presume anything. Laura doesn’t even notice she’s not with the rest of them until they’re all standing in front of her bedroom door, and then she looks a little hurt. “Tasha?” she asks, almost shy. “You coming? You didn’t sleep much last night either.”

Cooper narrows his eyes at this, like he’s puzzling something out, but he stays quiet.

Natasha purses her lips. “Bed’s not that big.” 

“We’ll make room,” Lila chimes in, and Nate, in Laura’s arms, nods.

So all of them cram into the king size bed. It’s not exactly comfortable, but it’s not the worst place Natasha’s tried to sleep. Cooper and Lila stretch out, heads and feet at opposites, at the foot of the bed, and Nate curls up in between Natasha and Laura. 

She won’t pretend it’s the most restful nap she’s ever had (Lila snores and Nate kicks), but it does feel...cozy? Maybe that’s the right word. She hasn’t had a lot of use for it.

\---

That night, Natasha takes care of Nate’s bedtime routine again, while Cooper and Lila play Mario Kart and Laura pretends to be writing. (They all know she’s not.) Eventually, Laura shoos Cooper and Lila into their own rooms and, once the coast is clear, she goes to the pantry and rummages around for awhile. “I know this isn’t your usual,” Laura says, holding up a bottle of Jack Daniels, “but I haven’t restocked the liquor lately.”

Natasha laughs and goes to get two glasses. “No complaints here.”

They collapse onto the couch, pouring probably too much into their glasses. “Hell of a day,” Natasha mutters, taking a long drink.

Laura stares into her glass and then downs half of it in approximately fifteen seconds. “At least it’s over,” she sighs. 

“How are you doing?” It’s a stupid question, but Natasha feels like she should ask it anyway.

“Better after this hits me,” Laura says, tapping her finger against her glass. “Otherwise, kinda feel like shit.”

“Yeah.” Natasha nods. “Do you wanna talk about it? Him?”

“I’m tired of crying.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I’m-” Laura’s voice cracks suddenly and she takes a deep breath before continuing. “I miss him, and I’m so mad at him, and I can’t talk to _anyone_ about this, because my husband was a fucking Avenger and he saved the goddamn world by dying and how is anyone gonna know how to handle that? How do _I _handle that? How can I be such a selfish asshole to be _angry_ with him for getting all, all Mr. fucking Spock and heroic sacrificing himself? How can I wish he didn’t jump when he brought everyone back? Millions of people versus my husband, including me and our kids, and I still wish he hadn’t done it, what kind of monster does that make me?”

Laura’s getting kind of loud, and Natasha’s about to suggest they go outside and sit on the porch when Laura suddenly deflates. “So, that’s how _I’m _feeling,” she says with a brittle laugh. “How about you, Nat?”

Truth be told, some of that is what Natasha’s been wanting to say and also can’t. “Some of the same,” Natasha admits, “with an extra helping of crushing guilt.” _It should have been me,_ she wants to say but doesn’t. She’s pretty sure Laura’s already thinking it anyway. 

“You know what’s really getting me?” Laura says, as if reading her mind. “I know it was the two of you up there, and one of you had to jump. And I keep going over it in my head, imagining having to pick between the two of you, and I...I fucking _can’t,_ Tasha, I can’t do it. Because he’s him and you’re you.” She takes another long drink of cognac and then stares Natasha in the eyes. “Tell me what happened in the last five years, right up to today. Tell me _everything._”

So, Natasha does. This actually isn’t that hard - she just treats it like a mission briefing, just the facts, no fluff, no feelings. Laura listens the whole way through, face unreadable.

When she finally finishes, Laura shakes her head and says, “That son of a bitch would never have let you do it.”

The venom in her voice surprises Natasha. “What?”

“He went up there with a death wish. Goddamn him.”

“Oh.” That’s all Natasha can think to say.

“He had a death wish when he started doing that vigilante justice shit,” says Laura. “Or maybe he just didn’t care what happened to him, as long as he took some shitheads out with him. And then he got the chance to, I don’t know, atone or whatever, and he took it.”

“I told him not to,” Natasha says, trying to keep her voice steady. “I mentioned you and the kids, I told him-”

“No.” Laura’s laughing, but not like anything is funny at all. “No, you couldn’t have stopped him. He’d already decided to be Spock. ‘The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.’ He didn’t want it to have to be you.”

Something clicks into place in Natasha’s head - a terrible dark truth that she’s been pushing away. “He chose me over you,” she whispers, the words barely coming out. “I’m so sorry, Laura.”

Laura’s quiet for a long time, so long that Natasha considers just getting up and leaving the house. Laura must hate her. Why wouldn’t she hate her? But then Laura says, “He chose to save both of us, Tasha.”

She’s tried so hard not to cry. She hates crying in front of anyone. But she can’t hold it anymore, not in front of Laura, so she just collapses against her and lets it happen and she hears Laura start to cry again too, and they sit there until their tears subside. “Will you come to bed with me again?” Laura croaks.

Natasha nods, and without another word they help each other to the bedroom. 

\---

Laura has an appointment with their financial advisor, two days after the funeral. “You sure it’s not too soon?” Natasha says, when Laura asks her to come. 

Laura shrugs. “I’d rather get it out of the way.”

The branch where Keith Colantoni works is in Baltimore, which is less than three hours’ drive from the farm. They leave Cooper in charge, with lunches labeled in the fridge and cash for an emergency (which they all know will get used to order pizza, but Laura gives them the spiel about using it “responsibly” anyway). “They’ll be fine,” Laura says as she gets into the truck, her voice falsely bright. “We’ll be back before dinnertime.” Natasha nods.

Keith Colantoni has, apparently, been the Bartons’ financial advisor since they got married. “She and Clint marched in here right after their honeymoon ended, and she asked for the best finance guy we had,” Keith says with a chuckle. “And I guess someone decided I was the guy for the job. I’m sorry to hear that he’s gone. How are you doing, Laura? Can I get you anything?”

Laura swallows and gives him a wobbly smile. “I’ll be alright, thanks, Keith. It’s good to see you, after...well, it’s been longer for you than it has for me.”

“Yeah. Although, to be honest, I didn’t see Clint in here at all during the last five years. So when I got your call and did some looking into your accounts, I was more than a little surprised.” Keith is holding a tablet, and he swivels it so Laura can see it. “As you can see, your husband did quite a lot of traveling during the Snap. You’re lucky, because between your income, the incoming life insurance payment, and the bereavement support, you shouldn’t have any long-term financial issues, but I’d recommend keeping a close eye on things for a while.”

Laura is staring at the numbers, mouth agape and not saying anything. Natasha glances at them, but it feels rude to stare, so instead she asks Keith, “Sorry if I’m overstepping here, but if I’m understanding you correctly, Clint didn’t contact you at _all_ during the Snap?”

Keith shrugs apologetically. “I don’t have any record of it, no. And I don’t make a habit of micromanaging my clients, especially the ones who are usually pretty responsible.” He gives Laura another sympathetic look. “I’m sure this is a lot to take in. Do you want a minute? A glass of water, maybe?”

Laura nods quickly, closing her mouth, and Keith gets up. “I’ll be right back then.”

He’s barely closed the door before Laura turns to Natasha, eyes blazing. “I can’t believe him!”

Natasha, unsure of how to respond, says, “I’m sorry. I mean, we both know how he was, I don’t know if there was anything I could have said to stop him, but I should’ve tried.”

“No, I don’t blame you,” Laura says, standing up and pacing back and forth in front of Keith’s desk. “I blame _him_ for being so goddamn irresponsible! Did he just think he could piss all the money away on some stupid _John Wick_ revenge fantasy? My god, what an idiotic thing to do! If he were here I’d - I’d - I don’t even know, but I’d make sure he was fucking _sorry!_”

That makes Natasha laugh, a bit nervously, even though nothing about this is funny. “Well,” she says lightly, “at least he was just murdering criminals instead of having affairs?”

Laura snorts. “At least there’s that, I _guess_.” She’s still pacing.

Keith comes back in a minute later holding a glass of water. “How are we doing in here?” he asks with a gentle, resigned smile.

“Fine,” grumbles Laura. She takes the glass of water and downs half of it angrily before setting it back on the desk with a loud “thump.” “Is there anything else we need to discuss, Keith?”

After maybe twenty more minutes of financial discussion, Keith bids them farewell and Natasha and Laura trudge back to the truck. “Would you mind terribly if I got in first and screamed for a minute?” Laura asks, her voice saccharine and something dangerous in her eyes.

Natasha opens the driver’s side door for her. “Not at all.”

After giving Laura a few minutes to scream and yell all she wants, Natasha climbs in and looks over at Laura. “Feel any better?”

Laura sighs. “Maybe a little. I just...I can’t believe him. And then I feel shitty for feeling so angry, because it’s not like he could’ve known that we would...that we would ever come back, and I know he was probably trying to deal with it in his own way. And who gets so mad at their dead husband who sacrificed himself to save the world that they have to sit in their truck and scream about it?”

“It’s understandable. Just because he died doesn’t mean he wasn’t an asshole about this one thing,” Natasha points out. “Throwing a fuckton of money at a revenge quest is fucking stupid.” She’s starting to feel much worse for not checking up on Clint sooner - but then, she’s not his mother or his babysitter. 

Laura still looks miserable, and Natasha’s not sure how to help her, but then she gets an idea. “Hey. Can I take you somewhere before we get lunch?”

Laura blinks at her. “I don’t feel like getting drinks, if that’s what you were thinking. And we should really get back to the kids…”

“It won’t take long,” promises Natasha. “And it’s not drinking, and I think it’ll help you. Can I drive?” 

After a moment, Laura nods and opens the door to get out. “I trust you, Tasha.”

Natasha’s sure that this will help, so even when Laura says “Oh no” when they pull into the gym’s parking lot, she doesn’t waver. “I really don’t feel up to a workout,” Laura adds uncertainly.

“Not even boxing?” Natasha grins over at her. “It’ll help, I promise. It’ll feel good. Just half an hour pounding a sandbag helps when you’re this angry.”

“Oh, what the hell,” Laura sighs. “Okay, let’s go.”

“Good. I know the owner of this chain, so let me do the talking.”

Fifteen minutes later (and a flash of the barely-used black card Steve gave her “for emergencies”), they’re all set up in a private room for an hour with rented workout clothes and gear. “Sorry,” Laura apologizes when Natasha has to help her strap the gloves on. “You know I’m more of a yoga girl.”

“It’s alright. You know how to throw a punch, right?”

“Sort of?” Laura looks sheepish. “Maybe demonstrate for me?”

Natasha nods and drops into a fighting stance, circling the bag slowly. “So you make a fist like this, thumb outside and tucked in,” she says, tilting her hand to show Laura, “and when you punch you want to make sure you’re not hitting directly on your knuckles if you can avoid it. Spread it out as much as you can.” She gives the bag a few good whacks, then glances at Laura. “Like that, see?”

“I think so,” Laura says. She’s a bit flushed, maybe from nerves. “Like this?” She makes a fist and tries to mirror Natasha’s stance. 

“Bend your knees a little more,” Natasha instructs, coming up behind her to help position her correctly. “Yeah, like that. You want to be kinda on your toes, so you can hop around and not be too unbalanced on just one foot. Yeah. Okay, now try hitting it.”

Laura does, and her eyes go comically wide as her fist connects with the bag. “I thought it might hurt,” she says. “It looks like it hurts in the movies.”

Natasha snorts. “Movies lie. C’mon, do it again.”

Laura does, and then she hits it a few more times, less cautiously. “There you go,” Natasha encourages, “now harder.”

So Laura does, and soon she’s whaling on the bag like it’s her worst enemy. “You can make noise or yell if you want,” Natasha points out, when she notices Laura’s biting her lip. “It’s just us in here and I don’t mind.”

Laura growls, yells, and punches the bag until she’s literally shaking. Then she staggers over to the bench and flops down on it, whining, “I’m done now. Too tired.”

Natasha grins down at her. “But it helped, right?”

“Yeah,” gasps Laura. “Thanks.”

“I’m gonna take a turn, since you’re done.” Natasha turns to the bag. She hasn’t had a chance to do anything like this since the fight with Thanos, and to be honest it’s been like an itch in the back of her mind. 

She doesn’t say a lot (she’s never very vocal when she’s working out), but she can feel Laura’s eyes on her. It should make her feel self-conscious, but it sharpens her focus instead. She’s not showing off, exactly, but she keeps herself on point, never stumbling or missing the bag.

“You’re so graceful,” Laura murmurs, when Natasha stops for a water break.

Natasha shrugs. She knows exactly what her body’s capable of, so when people point it out she’s really not sure how to react. And this is Laura complimenting her, so it’s...different. “Thanks,” she mumbles, her lips curving into a smile. “Training since you’re a teenager will do that to you.”

“I know,” Laura says with a little laugh, “but I forgot somehow. That sounds silly, but it’s true.” She bites her lip again and then glances at her hands. Natasha awkwardly says “Thank you” again and then goes back to the bag. Her cheeks feel weirdly hot, but she decides to ignore it.

Finally she’s had enough. “You ready to head to the showers?” she asks Laura, starting to remove her own gloves. 

Laura nods, then looks embarrassed again when she tries and fails to do the same. “Um,” she says, holding up her hands. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Natasha says, truly not minding as she comes over to help her. “It’s just something you get used to if you do this a lot.”

“I can’t imagine that,” Laura says, chuckling and shaking her head. “You and Clint, you’re fit in a totally different way than me. I’m just used to doing farm chores and baling hay.”

“That’s a skill too,” Natasha argues. “To be honest, I’m no good at weights. That’s why I sneak around and punch stuff. Anyway, c’mon, showers are this way.”

She hasn’t had to use a gym shower in years, and she _really_ hasn’t missed it. There’s no reason to linger, so she doesn’t, and she dresses as quickly as possible once she’s done. “I’m heading out to the waiting room,” she calls, and Laura sounds a little startled when she answers, “Okay!” 

It’s not too much longer before Laura joins her, and once they’re outside she smiles at Natasha and says, “Thank you. I do feel better.”

“Good.” Natasha gestures to the truck. “You want me to drive?”

“Halfway, if you would? I think I need a nap after that.”

Sure enough, Laura wakes up just as Natasha’s pulling into a rest stop to pee. On the way home, she puts on her favorite Sleater-Kinney album and they both yell along to it. 

\---

Laura and the kids are supposed to start going to grief counseling twice a week, a few days after Clint’s funeral. But on the morning of their first appointments, Laura starts trying to herd them all outside and Cooper parks himself on his bed and says, “Nope. I’m not going.”

Laura bites her lip like she might cry. “Bunny, I really think it would be good for you if you-”

“Nope.”

Laura sighs. “Okay. You don’t have to go today. Will you at least think about going next time?”

Cooper’s pulled out his sketchbook and is scribbling something. “Fine. But not today.”

“I’ll be here,” Natasha says from behind Laura. She’s been helping Nate pack his little backpack with some snacks and a couple toys, and she hasn’t been eavesdropping on _purpose_ but she couldn’t exactly ignore what was going on. “If he needs anything. We’ll be just fine.”

“Alright.” Laura looks so exhausted that Natasha wants to hug her, but instead Natasha kneels down to help Nate get his backpack on. “You have my number in case anything happens,” Laura says, “and we’ll be back around noon with lunch.”

“Bye.” Cooper just barely glances up, to return Lila’s District 12 salute goodbye. 

“Lila, can you get Nate into his carseat?” Laura asks as they all head downstairs. “I’ll be out in a minute.” 

Once both kids are outside and she’s made sure Cooper closed his door, Laura puts her head in her hands for a second. “I hate feeling like this,” she sighs. “I know he’s just grieving in his own way, but I don’t want to be mad at my own kid for not following the plan. He’s just normally so...I know he feels like he can’t be as open as the other two with his needs. He doesn’t want to upset me. I thought maybe having someone else to talk to about his dad would help. I don’t know.”

Natasha nods. “I think he’ll be okay. Maybe he’ll talk to me, I dunno. I won’t push him.”

“Yeah. At least he’s got that sketchbook,” Laura says with a shaky little laugh. “I know that helps him, drawing and posting comics on his blog. He told me not to look at it, so I don’t.”

“You’re both doing your best,” Natasha says. “Go on, the other two are probably jumping out of their seats by now. We’ll hold down the fort here.”

Once the other three are gone, Natasha decides to vacuum. She taps on Cooper’s door and calls, “Noise warning,” to which he grunts “okay.” Laura’s been warning him about loud appliances since he was old enough to process the noise, since he would immediately start crying and hide from them. Now, of course, he’s more used to it, but he still appreciates the heads up.

After she’s vacuumed all the common areas, she pokes around on the bookshelves for reading material. She can tell Clint’s books because they’re either John Grisham novels or sappy dog books. Laura’s are a little more varied: some assorted novels, a couple of true crime books, historical biographies, and one called _Please Kill Me: The Uncensored Oral History of Punk_. That’s the one she grabs, and it’s obviously been read multiple times: its cover is coffee-stained, half the pages have been dog-eared, and there’s a scattering of underlined and starred passages. Natasha curls up on the couch and starts reading.

She’s not more than a few chapters in when Cooper comes down the stairs and spots her. “Mom loves that book.”

“I can tell.” Natasha grins. “It’s right up her alley. Did she ever tell you about the time I took her to see Fleetwood Mac?”

“Yeah, she still calls that her best Christmas present ever.” Cooper sits down in one of the armchairs across from the couch. “I’m glad she’s talking to somebody about Dad.”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t want to talk about him right now,” Cooper adds, casually, like he’s talking about the weather. 

“That’s okay, I don’t really either.”

“Good. You wanna play Caper?”

That’s his favorite game, so it’s a good sign that he’s asking to play it. “Sure, let’s do it.”

When Laura and the kids return with Chinese takeout, they’re on their third game of Caper. “Hey!” Lila says indignantly. “You should’ve waited for me!”

“Sorry,” Cooper says with a shrug. “We can play after Auntie Nat and I finish this one.”

“Fine.” Lila plops herself down in a chair to watch.

“After lunch,” Laura calls. “Got you some sweet and sour chicken, Coop. And orange chicken for you, Nat.”

“Ooh, thank you.”

Nate comes bounding over to offer Natasha his fist. “Hey, nugget,” she says, bumping it. “Did you have fun?”

Nate shrugs. “I colored and talked to a nice lady who asked me questions about Daddy.”

“I got to color too!” Lila says loudly, holding up a coloring page. It’s Princess Aurora, with green skin and rainbow hair. “I think the therapist wanted me to draw a picture of Dad but I saw that Nate got to color so I made them get me a coloring book too.”

Laura smirks at her daughter and then says, “I think it was a good session. Can you get plates, Nat?”

After lunch, Cooper runs upstairs - to a soundtrack of Lila loudly objecting that they were supposed to play the game next - and almost immediately returns, offering a piece of paper to his mom. “I made this earlier,” he says, almost shy. “I’m gonna go play Caper with Lila now.” 

Laura frowns and glances at the paper, then her eyes go wide. “Thank you, bunny.”

Cooper nods. “It’s just for you!” he yelps over his shoulder, running over to where Lila is beginning to set up the new game. 

Natasha doesn’t try to look at the paper, though she can guess it’s a comic. Laura reads it, then carefully folds it up, wiping at her eyes. “It’s about Clint,” she explains.

“I figured,” Natasha says, not unkindly. She grabs Laura’s hand gently. “How are you doing? Therapy go okay for you?”

Laura nods. “It was nice to have someone impartial to talk to - no offense,” she adds quickly. “But she didn’t know Clint and she just let me say whatever I wanted for an hour. You know.”

“I do. That’s good.”

“And now,” Laura says, starting to gather up the lunch dishes, “I’m gonna get ready to vacuum once they’re done with that game, ‘cause I haven’t in a couple weeks and I’m sure it’s gotten really gross.”

“Actually, uh.” Natasha coughs. “I did that while you were gone.”

“You did?” Laura’s smile gets impossibly wide. “Nat, you’re an angel.”

“I mean, I’m living in your house not paying rent or anything,” Natasha says with a shrug, “I might as well be useful.”

“You are,” Laura says, softly. “I don’t know what I would have done without you these last few weeks.”

\---

As soon as she’s taken care of the legal things and everyone’s gotten into the groove of twice-weekly counseling, Laura throws herself into figuring out what to do about Cooper and Lila’s education. Apparently, the Board of Education is requiring all students to repeat the full year they failed to complete, and then continue with their education as normal. The new school year will begin right on schedule, in two weeks’ time, and all formerly Snapped students will be integrated back into their old grades.

“Ew,” Lila says when Laura tells them about it at dinner. “This sucks.”

Laura gives her a sympathetic smile. “I know, honey, but this is new territory for all of us. I think they’re just doing their best.”

Cooper side-eyes his mom (which makes Natasha snicker) and then says, “Well, this gives me more time to read those Shakespeare plays I didn’t finish.”

“How many didn’t you finish?” Laura asks suspiciously.

“Four.”

“Isn’t that _all_ the plays you were supposed to read?”

Cooper shrugs. “I start them, and then I get bored and stop.”

Laura lets out the world’s most exasperated sigh and turns to Lila. “Please tell me _you_ kept on top of your schoolwork,” she says hopefully.

“Yeah, but I have a big final geography project due at the end of the year that we’re supposed to be working on during both semesters. It’s about Japan. Unless they make me redraw countries, but I’m gonna yell if they do.” Lila looks at Natasha. “Didn’t you and Dad go to Japan before?”

Laura and Natasha exchange a glance. They’ve both agreed that the kids don’t need to know about Clint’s time in Japan during the Snap, at least not for the time being. “We… have been there before,” Natasha says carefully.

“Good, you can help then.”

Laura snorts. “I think you mean, ‘Auntie Nat, will you _please_ help me with my Japan project?’”

“She knows what I mean,” Lila mutters sulkily.

“You’d think we raised you two _in _the barn,” sighs Laura. “You okay with helping her out, Nat?”

“I’ll do my best.”

Lila’s project requires at least three books as primary sources, so on Saturday morning Natasha drives her into town. The local library is small, but it has a surprisingly decent history section, and Lila ends up taking half a dozen books. Natasha decides spontaneously to treat them all to lunch, so they swing by the local fast food joint on the way home. (Luckily, all three kids have standard orders that Natasha knows by heart.)

When they arrive back at the farm, Natasha can hear Laura yelling through the door. “Uh,” Natasha says, glancing at Lila, who just shrugs. Then she opens the door and calls, “Everything okay in here?”

Laura laughs. “Sorry! Yeah, we’re doing _Hamlet_ and you interrupted my glorious Polonius speech.”

“My apologies,” Natasha replies, grinning. “But time for a break. We brought lunch!”

There’s a rush of footsteps and Cooper appears from the other room. “Thanks!” he yelps, grabbing a drink and a bag and, after checking to make sure it contains his double cheeseburger (ketchup and pickles only), he darts upstairs. 

Laura yells after him, “I’ll come get you in half an hour!” Then she rolls her eyes. “Sorry, we’ve been reading for a couple hours and I think he’s going a little crazy.”

“Do you guys want some help?”

“Not today, I think. I’m kind of getting into _Hamlet, _if you couldn’t tell.” Laura grins. “But maybe tomorrow? _Much Ado_ is up next and I really can’t do both Beatrice and Benedick justice.”

“Sure.” Natasha’s not actually sure what she’s talking about; she hasn’t read any Shakespeare and has only seen the Baz Lurman _Romeo + Juliet _because Clint included it in the quest to make her cry. (That one didn’t work either.) But this should be fun. 

Nate appears from upstairs and smiles when he sees the food bags. “Hey,” Natasha says. “I got your chicken nuggets right here.” Lila and Cooper will eat maybe two or three things off a given restaurant menu, but Nate insists on chicken nuggets or the rough equivalent thereof whenever they eat out.

He takes the bag she offers and goes into the living room. “_She-Ra_?” Natasha asks Laura.

“Yep. Apparently they managed to make four new seasons over the last five years. He’s been really excited.”

That makes Natasha smile. “That’s good. You think he’ll mind if we join him?”

They take their burgers and troop after Nate, who looks up when Natasha pokes her head into the doorway. “Can we join?” He nods before shoving a handful of fries into his mouth.

The show started when Nate was three, and it might technically have been too mature for him, but he’s adored it since the beginning. His unicorn is named after the talking Pegasus character, and he had Laura make him a She-Ra costume for Halloween. The pictures are totally adorable.

They watch one episode and then Laura says, “One more and then we’re done for now, okay, Nate?”

Nate nods, and once that episode ends he turns off the TV and goes back upstairs. “Can you keep an eye on him?” Laura asks. “He’s just playing with LEGOs, nothing too strenuous, but he got spooked when I started reading too loudly and ran up there awhile ago. I’ll be down here with Cooper for another couple hours at least and then I wanted to try and get some writing in.” She smiles, but not really like anything is funny. “I called the paper yesterday and they said they want me to submit a couple of dummy articles just to be sure I haven’t lost my edge.”

“Wow,” Natasha says, making a face. “You’ll be okay. You’re a great writer.”

“You don’t have to say that.”

“I want to.”

Laura seems about to say something else, but just then Cooper clomps downstairs and calls, “Hey Mom, time for more _Hamlet,_ huh?”

“Yep, coming!” 

“Is Auntie Nat helping?” Cooper asks, poking his head into the den. “I bet she’d be a better Rozencrantz. Your Rozencrantz voice kind of sucks.”

“Excuse me?” Laura tries to sound offended, but she’s laughing. “I think Auntie Nat was going to go check on Nate and then have some quiet time.”

“Oh.” Cooper pouts a little. He looks so much like Clint that Natasha’s stomach clenches.

Goddammit, she’s getting soft. “Fine,” she sighs with a resigned smile. “I’ll help out. I’ve heard your attempts at an accent before, Laur.”

Laura huffs. “In front of my son you do this? Et tu, Brute?”

Cooper chortles. “Mom, you give everyone terrible Scottish accents.”

“They are Scottish!” 

“Yeah, but _you_ sound like Rose Tyler when you do it.” Cooper slips into an impression of the _Doctor Who_ character. “Och, aye, I’ve just been oot and aboot! Hoots mon!”

That’s so unexpected that it makes both Laura and Natasha burst into laughter. It’s not even that funny, but laughing, _really_ laughing, feels unexpectedly good, and Natasha just keeps doing it. Cooper beams and laughs along with them. Laura sits down on the couch and laughs until tears stream down her face, and Natasha and Cooper keep laughing too, long after the joke has passed. They all keep laughing for so long that it takes Natasha a second to realize that at some point Laura switched over from crying with laughter to _actually_ crying. She keeps letting out noises that are somewhere between laughter and sobbing and she buries her face in her hands.

“Mom?” Cooper asks, still laughing but now sounding frightened. “What’s going on?” He’s starting to rock back and forth on his heels, like he does only when he’s really stressed out.

Natasha stops laughing and sits down next to Laura, putting an arm around her gently. “Hey,” she says, “you’re okay. Coop, I think your mom just has a lot of feelings right now, that’s all.”

Laura is crying so hard that she can’t get any words out other than “I’m sorry” a few times, and Cooper’s started crying too, but he goes to retrieve a box of tissues from the other room and holds it out for her.

“Thanks, buddy,” Natasha says, taking it from him. “Here, have a tissue, Laura.”

Laura nods and tries to blow her nose, although mostly what happens is an explosion of snot and tears. Her sobs are starting to quiet a little. Finally they peter out and she whispers hoarsely, “I’m sorry.”

Natasha rubs her back. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

But Laura shakes her head insistently, blowing her nose before turning to Cooper, who’s still rocking. “I’m sorry,” she repeats. “That was pretty scary for you, huh?”

Cooper is still crying, but soundlessly. He grabs a tissue and pats at his face. “It’s okay, Mom,” he says shakily. “You’re always saying it’s okay to cry.”

“You’re right,” Laura sniffles, “but I shouldn’t have scared you and I’m sorry for that. I was crying because...because…” She sounds as if she might set herself off again, and she takes a deep breath and a pause before continuing, “I thought about how Dad would have liked your impression and that made me really sad.”

Cooper gives her a horrified look and says, “I won’t do it again, I’m sorry!” before bolting out of the room. They hear the back door slam a minute later.

“Shit,” Laura whimpers, like she might start all over again. “I fucked that up, didn’t I?”

“No,” Natasha says firmly. “It was just a weird situation. You didn’t do anything wrong. I can go talk to him if you want. Are you gonna be okay by yourself?”

Laura nods, only a little shaky. “Go ahead, I’ll...I’ll clean myself up.”

It’s not hard to figure out where Cooper’s gone. Ever since he got too big to actually climb the apple trees, he’s parked himself under them whenever he can instead. Sure enough, he’s curled up under the biggest one, head buried between his knees.

“Coop?” she calls softly. She walks toward him slowly. “Hey there.”

He sniffles and she can hear him say “I’m sorry” in the tiniest voice.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Natasha says, sitting cross-legged a few feet away from him. “You’re mom’s not upset with you at all. She’s just...really sad and she misses your dad a lot.”

“But if I hadn’t done the impression, she wouldn’t have gotten so sad,” Cooper sighs. He’s still keeping his face hidden. “I made it worse. I’m supposed to be the easy kid.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Cooper doesn’t say anything for a while. Natasha just waits. Then he raises his head up, rummages in the pocket of his hoodie, and opens it. After flipping through it, he leaves it open on a particular page and hands it to her. 

It’s a comic, drawn a little crudely in pencil, but the letters have been written neatly in black pen so they’re legible. Natasha recognizes the cartoon versions of Cooper, Lila and Nate instantly.

_My siblings and I are all autistic. But my parents didn’t know about me until my sister came along. When she was little, they got her a bunch of therapists to help her communicate with us. I didn’t need the same kind of help, so they didn’t think to have me evaluated until after she was. Some things are harder for her: she gets overwhelmed by loud noises, crowds, and things being TOO MUCH. I feel like that sometimes but mostly I just feel uncomfortable. We both can’t eat some foods - bananas, fish, soggy bread - and we need our food separated. We both hate how jeans feel. But we’re different too. She gets angry more than me, and she used to hit people and bit them when she got upset. I just get sad. My little brother sometimes doesn’t feel like talking at all, so he uses sign language instead, and he only likes certain foods. I sometimes know what bothers them before my parents do, so I’m the one who explains why they’re upset when they can’t. I’m the most “normal” of the three of us, so I try not to cause trouble for my parents. I’m supposed to be the easy one. But being the easy one isn’t always easy. _

When Natasha’s done reading, she looks up at Cooper, who’s gone back to hiding his face. “Thanks for sharing that with me,” she says, setting the notebook down in front of him.

Cooper nods and unburies his face long enough to put the notebook back in his pocket. “Sure.”

“You know your parents don’t feel that way at all,” Natasha adds casually. “They don’t think you’re causing trouble or anything when you need things. Your mom knows it’s different for you than for Lila or Nate sometimes, and that’s okay, she wants to help you. She wants you to tell her when stuff bothers you. And your dad didn’t ever want you to feel like you had to be ‘easy’ if you were having trouble.”

“Yeah?” Cooper’s voice is rough.

“Yeah.” Natasha smiles. “We all love you, kiddo. You’re doing just fine.”

“Okay.” Cooper looks up at her. “Can I stay out here for awhile?”

“Sure thing.” Natasha offers him her fist, which he bumps, and then she gets up and goes back inside the house.

Laura’s much calmer, though her eyes are still red-rimmed. “How is he?”

“He’s okay. I told him nothing’s his fault. He showed me one of his comics.”

“Wow.” Laura chuckles thickly. “The only one of those he’s showed me lately is the one he made about Clint last week. You’re pretty special.”

Natasha shrugs. “I’m the aunt. He feels safer telling me stuff that he can’t tell you or Clint. Or so I’m given to understand.”

“True. I’m guessing he opted to stay outside?”

“Yeah. He needed a break after that.”

“I didn’t tell him the whole truth,” Laura says suddenly. “Why I lost it. I mean, Clint would have found it funny, he loved Cooper’s impressions, but also...I was laughing, and it felt good, and then I realized that was the first time I’ve really laughed since he...and I just felt so _guilty, _you know?” She puts her head in her hands. “That’s so stupid. I should definitely mention this tomorrow morning.”

“It’s not stupid,” Natasha argues. “It makes sense. But you should get to laugh, Laura. He’d hate the idea of you not laughing just because he wasn’t here to laugh with you. Pretty sure your counselor would say that too.”

“I guess.” Laura sounds uncertain, so Natasha offers her hand, and Laura squeezes it. “Thanks, Tasha.”

The nickname sends lightning down Natasha’s spine, but she says, “You don’t have to call me that. Not if it’s too weird.”

Laura flinches like Natasha’s slapped her. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I just thought...because you’re...I’ll stop if you want me to.”

“Shit. That’s not what I meant, Laura. I just didn’t want you to feel like you had to think about that. About us. You’ve got enough to worry about.”

“Natasha.” Laura’s tone is suddenly stern, like the one she uses when the kids are misbehaving, and it startles Natasha into looking at her. “You are important to me. I’ve missed you. I love you. I don’t want things to be weird between us just because Clint is dead, or because we used to be…” She waves her hand in the air. “Together. That’s why I’m calling you Tasha. But I’ll stop if you want me to.”

She could lie and say that it does. She could end this now. “No,” Natasha replies, too quickly. “I like it.” She should feel more guilty than she does. Clint’s barely in his grave and here she is, with his _wife,_ thinking of anything but her grief. Even for her, that’s ghoulish.

“Good.” Laura leans in and Natasha’s heart jumps into her throat for a second, but then Laura just brushes her lips against Natasha’s cheek and whispers, “You’ll always be Tasha to me.”

They wait until the next day to try Shakespeare again. Cooper still seems nervous, but he brightens and then says, “Can we have some ice cream while we read? That would help us all feel better.” 

“My children are master extortionists,” groans Laura, going to get the ice cream out of the freezer. “Where did I go wrong?”

Then, of course, Lila and Nate appear out of nowhere, drawn by the universal siren song of ice cream, and each get a scoop of their own after giving their mother pitiful looks. “Impressive how you two can hear the freezer open from an entire floor away,” teases Natasha.

“Ice cream is no joke,” Lila says, and Nate nods in agreement.

“You take some too, Nat,” Laura insists, holding out a bowl with a scoop of mint chocolate chip. “You’ve earned it.”

Natasha rolls her eyes, but takes it from her. She hasn’t had ice cream in a long time and it does sound good.

She, Laura and Cooper settle onto the couch with the much-battered copy of _Much Ado About Nothing _that’s apparently been riding around in Cooper’s backpack for months. “I think this will be better for today than _Hamlet_,” Laura says. 

“I know this one already,” scoffs Cooper. “Couldn’t I just watch the movie again?” 

“No, don’t be lazy,” Laura scolds fondly. “We’re gonna read this play, all together. Do you wanna be Beatrice or Benedick?” she asks Natasha. 

“Benedick.” She has only a vague idea what this is about - a girl who’s supposed to get married and gets caught cheating, but she wasn’t actually the one cheating? She has no idea who Beatrice and Benedick are. 

“Coop, you’re Claudio and Don Pedro,” Laura says, “and I’ll be Hero.”

Cooper laughs. “That’s not weird or anything, Mom.”

She waves her hand dismissively. “There’s no one in this house you aren’t related to, and it’s only for a few hours, you’ll get used to the weirdness. Nat, who else do you wanna be?”

After divvying out the parts, they’re on their way. Natasha’s surprised at how much fun she’s having. She knows Laura did some acting in high school and college, but she’s not expecting Laura to get so _into_ it. Laura lights up, reading every word like she believes them. It makes Natasha care more, makes her want to match Laura’s energy. So she does her best.

As they read, she’s grateful for her practiced poker face because _holy shit _she had no idea that Beatrice and Benedick fall in love throughout the play. (Clint never bothered to show her either of the movies, because he doesn’t - didn’t - have a lot of patience for Shakespeare.) And Laura’s not holding back on the flirting either; it reminds Natasha a little of when she first met her, in those first emails when everything between them was new and exciting. That’s dangerous. She can’t go there.

So she throws herself into the part of swaggering, proud Benedick and tries to ignore the subtext, which is that she and the woman she’s tried very hard _not_ to be in love with for the last fifteen years are basically starring in a romcom. 

She may be doing a worse job than she thought, because when Laura gets up to go to the bathroom, Cooper shoots Natasha the kind of look he gives Lila when he knows she’s been stealing his fries and says, “You like Mom.”

“What?”

“You.” Cooper points at her. “Like.” He makes a heart with his hands. “Mom.” He points down the hall toward the bathroom.

“Okay, okay, smartass, I heard you. And yeah, of course I like your mom. She’s one of my best friends, I’ve known her since before you were born.”

“No,” Cooper says, “you _like_ her. Romantically.”

Natasha scoffs. “What are you talking about?”

“You guys are flirting. It’s not just Beatrice and Benedick flirting, you guys are too.”

“No we aren’t,” Natasha says quickly. “It’s just the characters.”

Cooper narrows his eyes. “No it isn’t. It’s okay, I’m not mad about it. Mom likes you too. She used to burn your candles whenever she was really sad and missing you and Dad. And she talks to you the same way she talked to Dad.”

“That doesn’t mean-” 

Before Natasha can finish, Laura comes back. “Okay!” she chirps. “Let’s get back to it, and then we can figure out something for lunch?”

Unfortunately for Natasha, they’re just about to start Act IV, in which Benedick confesses his love for the first time.

“I love nothing in the world so well as you,” Natasha reads, doing her best to keep her face expressionless. She can feel Cooper’s staring at her. “Is that not strange?”

“As strange as the thing I know not,” Laura replies. “It were as possible for me to say I loved nothing so well as you, but believe me not, and yet I lie not. I confess nothing, nor I deny nothing. I am sorry for my cousin.”

“This is when they’re still thinking that the other one’s been in love with them all along but they don’t want to come on too strong, right?” Cooper asks. It feels pointed. Natasha glares at him, and he looks right back at her, expressionless.

Laura nods. “It’s basically the point where everyone’s emotional and they’re kind of just letting all of their feelings out. Beatrice is about to do her ‘if I were a man’ speech.”

“Okay. I just wanted to know, go ahead.”

Later when Laura’s gone upstairs to write and Natasha decides to tidy up the barn, Cooper follows her outside. “So,” he says as she’s mucking out Pete 2’s stall. “You and Mom.”

“And just what do you think you’ve figured out, Encyclopedia Brown?” She’s careful not to look at him.

The old nickname makes him laugh, but then he says, “You like girls, right? I heard you tell Lila that when she asked you if it was okay to like girls last Christmas. Or five Christmases ago, I guess. The last Christmas I remember.”

“You weren’t supposed to be listening to that conversation.” Natasha shakes out some dry straw and dumps the rest into the wheelbarrow.

“I didn’t mean to!” Cooper protests. “She talks loud. And I already knew anyway because she asked me about it and I told her to ask you, ‘cause you know everything.” 

“Yes, I’m bisexual,” Natasha says, rolling her eyes and deciding she’s flattered enough to let the eavesdropping go. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Mom’s a girl. And you like Mom. Duh.”

“I should’ve taught you better interrogation techniques,” she sighs, scooping up a forkful of manure. “You’re not very good at this, kid.”

“You should tell her,” he replies. “She likes you back, I’m pretty sure.”

“Yeah, I’ll get right on that.”

“It’s okay,” he adds. “Dad would say it’s okay too. I miss him, but I think he would’ve wanted you and Mom to be happy together.”

The burning behind Natasha’s eyes is back. “Uh huh,” she says, nodding slowly. “Hey, help me dump the wheelbarrow, will you?”

He does without complaint. 

\---

Natasha’s been sleeping a little better lately. Not that her guilt still doesn’t stalk her, taking advantage of her quietest hours. But it’s nice to have Laura there next to her, breathing softly, her body solid and comforting. It helps her to focus on Laura, although it occurs to her that Laura might not feel the same way.

She brings it up a few days after the funeral, waiting until they’re cooking dinner to ask, “Do you want me to move back into the guest room, or...?”

Laura frowns. “Do you want to?”

Natasha shrugs, stirring the pasta so she has something to pretend to focus on. “If you want me to.”

“Don’t do that,” Laura sighs. “You’re doing that thing you do where you don’t actually answer the question and you just say what the other person wants to hear. It’s annoying.”

“Fine.” Natasha glances at her, then away again. “If you want me to use the guest room, I will.”

“Tasha.” Laura reaches out to grab her hand, so gently that Natasha almost doesn’t notice. “I like having you there. You don’t have to move out unless you want to.”

“I just wanted to make sure you still wanted…” _Me,_ is the word she almost says but doesn’t.

Laura rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. “Of course. I _like_ you, dope.”

“I mean, yeah, me too,” Natasha says, chuckling. “But I thought maybe you-”

She doesn’t get to finish, because Cooper slinks into the kitchen and says, “Lila wants to know if we can watch a movie during dinner.”

Laura turns to her son, raising an eyebrow. “And you came in here to ask for her because…?”

“Because she’s busy grooming Pete 2 and she asked if I’d ask so she didn’t have to stop in the middle. She said there’s a rock stuck under her shoe and she’s busy getting it out.”

“Tell her I’ll _consider_ it,” Laura says, trying for stern, “and it has to be something Nate can watch, so no _Hunger Games._”

Cooper looks insulted. “She knows that, Mom, geez.”

“I mean, this one saw _Terminator 2 _by accident when he was like five, and he’s fine,” Natasha interjects. “I think it’s good for kids to see a little bit of inappropriate content when they’re small. Toughens ‘em up.”

Laura turns to glare at her. “Not helping, Tasha.”

Cooper’s eyes widen at her use of the nickname, and Natasha notices his expression and makes a shooing motion with her hand. He gives her a shit-eating grin and says, “Okay, I’ll tell her, thanks Mom,” before dashing back out again.

“Those two, I swear,” groans Laura. “Always talking for each other. At least they stopped calling each other Finn and Jake when they got to double digits.”

“‘Cause they found new special interests,” Natasha points out, smiling.

“Well, yeah, and also then Lila decided she wanted to go by Katniss.” Laura shakes her head. “I absolutely understand the political importance of those books, but I would’ve waited a couple more years to give them to her.”

“Hey, it got her reading more,” Natasha points out. “And she got the point of them right away. She’s a smart kid.”

Laura sighs. “True enough, I guess.”

It’s Friday night, so Laura gives in and lets them all curl up with dinner in front of _Wreck-It Ralph_ (which was the only one all three kids could agree on). Nate dozes off before the end, but they let him sleep through it and then Laura gently picks him up and carries him to bed. 

Lila turns to Natasha. “How much longer are you staying with us?”

Natasha blinks, taken by surprise. “I’m not sure,” she says. “How long do you want me to stay?”

Lila thinks for a minute, then shrugs. “Mom says you’re like a stray cat and you’ll leave and come back whenever you want.”

“Does she?” Natasha asks, laughing.

“Yeah,” Cooper adds. “But she likes cats, so she meant it as a compliment.” He gives her what is clearly meant to be a meaningful look. It’s pretty hilarious.

Natasha rolls her eyes. “I don’t know, I’m not sick of you guys yet. And your mom still needs help around here, since it’s just her and Nate during the day.”

“Are you guys pestering Auntie Nat?” Laura scolds, poking her head into the room. “_I_ want her to stay as long as she wants, so don’t scare her away.”

Lila and Cooper put on their best innocent faces. “We weren’t doing anything, Mom,” Cooper says.

“Sure, sure. Off to your rooms, both of you. Lights out by midnight.” Laura shoos them out and then sits back down next to Natasha. “Nosy little shits.”

Natasha smirks. “It’s fine. I know they love me.”

“Of course.” Laura glances at the card table set up at the other end of the room. “You wanna watch something else? I kinda wanna start a puzzle.”

“Sure.”

They settle on _Say Yes to the Dress, _which Natasha has never seen before in her life, but which Laura likes. “It’s dorky,” she admits sheepishly, “but I dunno, I like it for the same reason I like _Project Runway._ Sometimes the dresses are cool.”

Natasha half-watches while she helps Laura with her puzzle. A couple of times their hands brush, and Natasha pretends it’s just casual touching. “I wore one of those once,” she says, grinning and nodding at the TV as the bride twirls in a particularly fluffy monstrocity. “Well, technically I got married in it, and then I killed the guy in it, so y’know. I guess the marriage got annulled.”

Laura’s eyes go wide. “You’ve never told me that story.”

“Not a lot to tell, honestly. The mark owed someone a chunk of money, and that someone wanted a girl to take him out. I was the lucky pick.” She snorts and continues, “Easiest job I ever did. He was dumb as a post, and he definitely liked his girls on the young side, if you know what I mean, so I didn’t feel bad about killing him at all. But yeah, he put me in a big stupid foofy dress for the wedding.”

Laura bursts into giggles, then covers her mouth. “I’m sorry, that shouldn’t be funny, that sounds awful. But I just imagined you in a big poofy wedding dress and…” She giggles again. “Sorry.”

“No, it was pretty damn funny,” agrees Natasha. “I don’t have pictures, obviously, but whatever you’re imagining is probably pretty close.”

“I’m sure you’d still be cute,” Laura says, eyes gleaming, “but it’s definitely weird to think about.”

“Cute?” Natasha says, trying to play it off like a joke. “What, little ol’ me? Aw shucks.”

“Yes. Take the compliment, Tasha,” Laura says firmly. So she does, and they work for awhile in pleasant silence. 

Eventually Laura’s head starts to droop, and she goes to start getting ready for bed. Natasha stays behind a few extra minutes, idly tidying up the living room. When she opens the door to Laura’s bedroom, the first thing she sees is Laura’s naked back as Laura rummages in a drawer for a shirt. She hesitates for half a second, not really meaning to stare (but staring anyway).

Laura glances over her shoulder. “Hey, slowpoke, take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

Natasha grins and shimmies into her own pajamas. “I’ll have you know I was doing some cleaning. I wanna be sure I’m pulling my weight around here.”

“Please,” Laura scoffs. “I told you before, you’re doing more than enough. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” She says it like she’s making a joke, but her face is deadly serious.

“You’d be okay,” Natasha says with a little laugh. “Anyway.” She slides under the covers. “Night.”

Laura looks at her another long moment, like she’s thinking about saying something else, but instead she just says “Night” and turns out the light.


	3. my light is coming home

When the alarm goes off on the kids’ first day of school, Laura grunts and rolls over. “Nope.”

Natasha sits up and smiles at her. “You sleep, Laur. I’ve got this.”

Laura make a little _mrrp_ noise and closes her eyes again.

Natasha opens the bedroom door just as Cooper’s walking by the hallway, on his way to the kitchen. Cooper grunts in acknowledgement, then stops suddenly, like he’s just realized she’s there. He turns to stare at her.

“Morning,” she says, giving him the world’s most innocent smile.

He glances at Laura’s open door, then back at Natasha. “Is Mom up yet?”

“No, I’m letting her sleep.”

“Okay.” Cooper shrugs. “I’m gonna go make toast.”

Lila’s less mobile. “Nope,” she grumbles, sounding almost exactly like Laura.

“C’mon,” Natasha coaxes, opening the curtains so the sunlight will stream in annoyingly and maybe force her out of bed. “I know it sucks, but get up anyway.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“Yeah. I feel that.” Natasha sits down at Lila’s desk chair, idly glancing at the bulletin board covered in horse pictures. “I don’t really have any compelling arguments to make you go to school, except if you don’t you’ll make your mom sad. But that would work better on your brothers than you.”

Lila’s eyes are still closed, but she smiles. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“But I will say that if you get up right now you’ll have enough time to go brush Pete 2 before the bus comes,” Natasha adds, and _that_ gets Lila to sit up and groggily start moving. Slowly, but still.

She checks in on Nate, who’s already up and signs “clothes” at her, pointing to his dresser.

“Uh,” she says hesitantly, but he keeps staring at her and pointing at the dresser until she finally gives in. “You’ll have to tell me if you don’t like what I pick out, okay?”

Nate nods.

After a few attempts, they settle on a pair of bright blue shorts and a soft grey T-shirt with She-Ra on it. “Okay,” Natasha says, “now can you go get the eggs? We’re letting your mom sleep in today.” Nate signs “okay” and heads downstairs.

Cooper is stumbling around the kitchen, pouring himself some orange juice and buttering a slice of toast. “Are you sleeping in Mom’s room?” he asks when he notices her.

“You’re nosy, Coop.” Natasha goes to start a pot of coffee.

“That’s not an answer.”

“I’m the one who’s supposed to say that, as the adult here.”

Cooper raises an eyebrow. “That’s also not an answer, and I’m fourteen, not four.”

Natasha opens her mouth to argue, but just then Lila bursts in from the back door. “Eggs?” she asks.

“There’s toast,” says Cooper, “and I-’

“Nope,” Lila says, crossing her arms. “I want eggs.”

Cooper looks at Natasha. “Mom’s the one who makes scrambled eggs for her. I tried, but she likes them super dry and I guess mine are too wet.”

“They’re gross,” Lila chirps, making herself comfortable at the table.

“Okay.” Natasha hasn’t made scrambled eggs in years. “Um, Lila, you go feed the chickens and let Pete 2 out and I’ll make eggs.”

Lila grunts acknowledgement and goes back outside, almost bumping into Nate as he enters, holding an egg carton carefully. “Oh, good timing,” Natasha says, taking the eggs from him. “Your sister asked for eggs.”

“Eggs,” Nate says, looking pleased.

“Morning, Nate,” Cooper says, and fistbumps him. “Here’s your bagel.”

“So,” Natasha says, giving the egg carton a quizzical look. “Eggs.”

A few minutes later, Lila comes back, looking slightly happier, and Natasha serves her a plate of what she hopes is suitably dry eggs. Lila devours them in under a minute. “So?” Natasha asks.

“Fine,” Lila nods approvingly. “Not too wet.” She glances at the clock. “Is Mom not coming down?”

“No, I wanted to let her sleep. I figured the four of us had it under control.”

Lila considers this, then says, “Fine, then you’ll have to give me the goodbye hug and kiss. Mom does it every year on the first day of school.”

“I think I can manage that.”

Once the older two are on the bus, she and Nate do breakfast cleanup. Laura appears just before 7:30. “Wow,” she mumbles, rubbing her eyes. “I didn’t mean to sleep in this late, I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Natasha says. “I figured you could use the sleep. We handled everything, right, Nate?”

Nate nods and goes to fistbump his mom, then says, “Auntie Nat made eggs.”

“Oh, did she?” Laura grins at him, then glances at Natasha for confirmation.

Natasha shrugs, suddenly a little embarrassed. “Lila asked - well, sort of demanded.”

“She does that,” agrees Nate. “It’s rude.”

That makes Laura laugh. “Hey now,” she says, trying for scolding. “Your sister’s getting better about asking nicely.” To Natasha, she adds, “Thank you for taking care of these three gremlins this morning, and doing the dishes even. You’re amazing, Tasha.”

“And I had Lila feed the animals,” Natasha adds.

“Oh my god, I could kiss you.” 

Natasha’s heart does something weird, which she decides to ignore, and instead she asks, “What’s going on today?”

“Well, I think we’d better get back to the routine Nate and I had going before, y’know, everything happened.” Laura goes over to the fridge and squints at a piece of paper stuck to it with a Garfield magnet. “After breakfast we’d spend a couple hours playing, then at noon he has lunch and then we read together for a little while, and then he has a nap, and a snack, and then after that some quiet time where he’s usually in his room so I can get some work done. And then after that the other two usually come home and we can start getting ready for dinner.” 

“Alright.” Natasha glances at Nate, who nods. “You want me to take over for some of that so you’ll have more work time?”

“Would you?” Laura beams. “That’d be amazing.”

“How about it, nugget?” Nate signs “okay” and dashes for the stairs, looking back to make sure she’s following. 

A few minutes later, they’re in Nate’s room, LEGO strewn everywhere. “Do you miss Daddy?” Nate asks, snapping some orange LEGO pieces onto the top of the tower he appears to be constructing.

“Of course,” Natasha says, surprised. “Your dad was like my brother. I’ll always miss him.”

Nate nods. “The doctor said that, the one Mom took us to. She said we’re all gonna be sad for a long time and that’s okay. Last time I told her about how Glimmer doesn’t have a dad either.”

“Glimmer’s the one who teleports, right? With the pink hair?” 

“Yeah, she te-le-ports.” Nate says the word slowly and carefully, like he hasn’t much before. “She’s not my favorite, just my third favorite. But she’s cool. Daddy’s favorite is Sea Hawk, he thinks he’s silly. He is silly but I think the princesses are cooler than him.”

“Yeah?” She’s used to Nate directing the conversation back to _She-Ra_, even if he started with a different topic.

“What’s your princess power?” 

Natasha thinks about it. “Is there a princess who can turn invisible?” 

“Not yet. But you can pick that one! That’s a cool power.”

“Then that one,” Natasha says with a smile. “How about you?” 

“I wanna fly,” Nate says immediately. “I want big butterfly wings.”

“Nice.” Natasha holds up the car she’s just finished making. “How’s this?”

Nate glances at it. “Pretty good. You don’t play with LEGOs a lot, huh?”

That makes Natasha laugh. “Nope, pretty much just when I’m hanging out with you.”

“You should more often. It’s fun.”

She’s about to respond when he adds, “Now make more cars. I’m making the building where all the cars go to work.”

“Alright, alright, bossy,” she teases. “Get me more wheels?” 

He passes them over. “Auntie Tasha, are you going to stay with us forever?” 

“Forever is a long time, kid.”

He pouts. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I don’t know how much longer I’m staying,” she says, truthfully. “It depends on how much help your mom needs.”

“Lots,” he says emphatically. “You make her less sad about Daddy. Before you came, she was sad all the time and now she smiles.”

“We’ll see,” she says, busying herself with snapping some wheels onto another vaguely car-shaped contraption she’s built. “Here.” She pushes it towards him. “Another car.”

He wrinkles his nose. “That one’s not as good.”

She laughs. “Sorry, the next one will be better, I promise.”

“Good,” he says with a firm nod.

\---

Natasha should want to leave. 

She should miss her team, miss the work they were doing, miss New York and the life she’d made for herself there. And she does, in a way. She’s emailed and texted with Sam and Wanda off and on, and Carol video-chatted her once (that was exciting, especially for Lila, who asked her a million questions about space). They’re all holding down their respective forts just fine.

But...without Steve and Clint, knowing that her teammates have found a way to restructure themselves in her absence, she doesn’t feel the same pull she should. She’s started to feel at home here on the farm, with Laura and the kids. She’s started to feel...if not happy, then at least content.

Laura’s birthday is coming up. “I don’t want to do anything fancy,” she says when Natasha brings it up during dinner one evening. “I’m turning forty two, technically it _should_ be forty seven, and I don’t need a whole song and dance at this point.”

“But Mom,” Cooper protests, aghast, “it’s the answer to the question of life, the universe, and everything!”

“Dad would have said that,” Lila points out. “Forty two is important.”

“At least let us make you a cake,” Cooper says. “We can use Dodo’s recipe.”

Laura’s smile wobbles for a second, the way it does now when one of the kids brings Clint up and she wasn’t prepared for it, but then she laughs and says, “Okay, okay. You can make me a cake.”

“And dinner,” Natasha adds. “Let me make dinner.”

“Presents,” Nate insists. “You need presents.”

“Oh god, alright, you can get me something small if you want to,” groans Laura. “But honestly, just dinner and cake sounds amazing.”

“We won’t light the stove on fire this time,” Lila deadpans. 

Cooper glares at her. “Why would you bring that up?”

“Natasha will supervise you,” Laura says quickly. “If that’s alright?” she adds, glancing at Natasha. “I just happen to like my stove and house the way it is, unburnt.”

Natasha snorts. “I think these guys can handle one cake.”

The day before Laura’s birthday, she drives into town to pick up Cooper and Lila from school and take them to the grocery store (which is high on the list of things she never thought she’d do). “So, how was school?” she asks a little sarcastically as they tumble into the backseat of the truck. 

“Boring,” groans Lila, rolling her eyes. “So fucking boring.”

“Hey,” Cooper says, “don’t swear in front of Auntie Nat, she might tell Mom.”

“Wow, what kind of snitch do you take me for?” Natasha asks, mock-offended. “I don’t give a shit if you guys swear in front of me.”

Lila looks delighted. “Mom tells us not to swear, but I’ve heard her say _way_ worse. I think she should give it up and just say whatever she wants but I guess we have to set a good example for Nate or whatever.”

Natasha snorts. “So, Coop, you have the list?”

Cooper rummages in his backpack for a minute before retrieving a slightly crumpled paper. “Here!”

“Cool. You guys are gonna take care of that stuff, while I run to the craft store across the street.”

“Oh, actually,” Cooper says, overly casual, “can you also go to the toy store? It’s down the street but they carry those puzzles Mom likes. I have money.” He pulls out a wad of cash.

“How much do you think puzzles cost?” Natasha says with a laugh.

“Thirty nine ninety five, plus tax,” Cooper rattles off, like he’s memorized it. “And this is mostly one and five dollar bills. Sorry.”

“It could be worse!” Lila chirps. “Nate gave him a bunch of quarters and dimes. I just took ‘em and made change with my allowance leftovers.”

After she’s dropped them off in front of the grocery store, Natasha parks and walks across the street to the craft store. Her plan is basically to get Laura one of those apple candles she loves so much and make some kind of nice centerpiece, maybe with fake flowers and ribbon and shit. She’s never done flower arrangements before, but it’s the thought that counts, right?

Luckily, the craft store still has the brand of candles Laura likes best, so that’s easy enough. Then she deliberates for a truly comical amount of time in front of the fake flower displays. Roses seem too romantic, but she actually has no idea what Laura’s favorite flower is, or even if she _has_ one, and there are a shitton of flowers here that she has no idea how to identify…

Finally she gives up, grabs some of the ones marked on sale at random, and dashes over to the ribbon section, grabbing a random spool of pink that matches some of the pink flowers she has. Then she books it over to the toy store, finds a cat-themed puzzle she knows Laura doesn’t have (it’s an adorable tuxedo cat sleeping in a library), and goes back to the grocery store.

Cooper and Lila are waiting by the car, having paid for everything already. “Hi,” Cooper says, looking curiously at the craft store bag. “What’s in there?”

“It’s flowers,” Lila says immediately. “I saw her looking at Pinterest earlier.”

Natasha snorts. “You’re a nosy little shit, you know that?”

Lila looks very smug. “You taught me how.”

“Goddammit, I did.”

That night, after dinner, they all shoo Laura out of the kitchen. “Go watch a movie,” Lila insists. “One of those ones you don’t want us watching ‘cause we’re not old enough. _Bridesmaids,_ maybe. You always laugh at the plane scene.”

“You shouldn’t know there’s a plane scene,” scolds Laura, but she leaves anyway.

Nate looks hopefully at Cooper. “Can I help?”

Cooper thinks a minute. “Yeah, you can sift the flour. Go get your stool, okay?” 

Nate retrieves a little red plastic stool from the coat closet and Cooper gets him set up with the sifter, then hands Lila the bag of raspberries he set out earlier to thaw. “Crush these, will you?” Lila nods, looking thrilled to be given the messiest job.

While they’re getting set up, Natasha parks herself at the kitchen table (which is within view of the kitchen, so she’ll be able to see if anything gets set on fire) and starts trying to arrange the flowers in one of Laura’s few vases. 

Cooper happens to glance over at the fake flowers and then suddenly shrieks, “Look what you’ve done to my peonies!”

Lila, who’s happily crushing raspberries, replies in a silly squeaky voice, “They’re marigolds!”

Cooper changes his voice to be slightly lower and then says, “My god, she’s right. They are marigolds!”

He opens his mouth as if to continue, but just then Nate, who’s been very focused on sifting flour up to this point, screeches, “I may not know my flowers, but I know a bitch when I see one!”

“Ex_cuse_ me?” Laura calls from the other room. “Did I just hear Nate say what I think he said?”

All three kids freeze. “No!” Lila squawks, shooting a horrified look at her brothers. “Go back to your movie, it’s fine!”

Laura sounds suspicious, but she says loudly, “Nate, don’t say whatever you said in public, alright?” before the movie starts up again.

“What just happened?” Natasha asks, still stunned. 

“Oh, it’s from a movie,” Lila explains. “He’s seen it-” she gestures to Cooper “-and he showed me that bit. I guess we say it a lot and _somebody_ picked it up.”

“It’s called _The Gay Deceivers,_” Cooper says. “It’s about two guys who pretend to be gay to get out of the draft, but the they have to keep pretending. It’s from 1969 so, y’know, it’s not always _great_ about stuff like that, but I found the clip on YouTube and had to show Lila.”

“I see,” is all Natasha can think to say.

“You can’t say that in front of anybody but us, okay, Nate?” Cooper adds sternly. “It’s really rude.”

Nate nods. “Okay.”

Natasha still feels a bit lost. “So wait, why did this come up again?”

Cooper points at the vase. “You bought fake peonies. So I thought of it.”

“Oh. Right.” Natasha smirks. “To be honest, I just bought random flowers, I don’t know what they all are.”

“Mommy will like them,” Nate says. “She thinks real flowers are too messy.”

“Yeah, good call,” agrees Lila. 

Natasha manages to wrestle the flowers into something resembling a nice-looking arrangement, then just sits and watches the kids work for awhile. Nate’s sifted all the flower and is now stirring a mix of flour, baking powder, and salt as per Cooper’s instructions. His tongue pokes through his teeth as he furiously stirs. Lila’s happily mashing the raspberries, staining not only her apron but also her hands, arms, and a bit of her face (the juice is flying). And Cooper’s keeping an eye on both of them, as usual, while he stirs the lemon zest into some sugar.

At one point, he grabs his phone and earbuds off the counter, gets out the electric mixer and, popping the earbuds into his ears, yelps, “Noise!” Nate sticks his fingers in his ears until it’s done, while Lila keeps working unperturbed. 

Once the two cakes are in the oven, Lila says, “Let’s play a game. Herd Your Horses?” This is her favorite board game, and has been ever since Laura found it at a Goodwill six years ago. Privately, Natasha doesn’t think it’s a very good game - it combines a simplified version of deck building with the standard move-across-the-board gameplay, and if you’re not as enamored of the individual horse cards as Lila is it gets old pretty quick. (And the artwork is beautiful, but horses all start to look the same to Natasha after a while.) Still, it makes Lila happy, so she grins and bears it every time.

Cooper feels the same way, and he catches Natasha’s eye and makes an almost imperceptible “here we go again” face before he says, “Sure, Li, let’s do it.” She feels a sudden rush of affection; he’s a good kid and she’s proud of him. Proud of all of them, really.

\---

That night, Natasha makes Laura turn off all her alarms. “You’re not allowed to get out of this bed until at least seven AM,” she teases. “I’m in charge of the kids and I’m making you breakfast.”

Laura chuckles. “You spoil me, Tasha.”

“You deserve it.”

The next morning, Cooper’s already in the kitchen when Natasha gets out of bed. “Don’t let Mom see the cake,” he insists. “It’s in the fridge. Don’t let her go in the fridge, okay?”

Natasha nods. “Don’t worry, I got this.”

Nate clomps down the stairs just after the other two leave for the bus. “Hey, nugget,” Natasha says fondly. “Your bagel’s waiting for you.”

He gives her a thumbs up and sits down to eat it. Natasha goes to get started on some pancakes. Pancakes seem pretty easy, and there’s even a jar of blueberries in the fridge she can throw in. 

By the time Laura emerges from her bedroom (around seven fifteen, which is sleeping in for her), Natasha has a fluffy stack of pancakes waiting. “Happy birthday, Mommy!” Nate yells as soon as she appears. 

“Thank you, baby.” Laura fistbumps him and then comes to admire Natasha’s work. “These look delicious.”

“Here’s hoping,” Natasha says wryly, handing her a plate with two on it. 

Laura grabs the maple syrup and drizzles it all over them. “I’m sure they’re great.”

“Yeah, they’ll definitely taste great if you douse them in sugar.”

“Don’t you judge me! I have three kids, I need every bit of energy I can get.”

“Alright, alright.” Natasha winks. “I’ll let it slide since it’s your day and all.”

While Laura eats, Natasha takes Nate outside to handle the animals. “No, Mommy,” Nate cries when Laura tries to get up and help them. “You stay. It’s your birthday!”

Laura smiles and sits back down. “Okay, okay, I won’t move, I promise.”

“Good.” Nate dashes outside, not looking back to see if Natasha is following him.

After breakfast, they watch _The Fifth Element, _one of Laura’s favorite movies. “If you get scared, you can cover your eyes or leave the room,” Laura promises Nate. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to, and if you really want to turn it off we can.” But he sits, transfixed, the whole way through, and doesn’t seem the least bit frightened by any of it. 

“See,” Natasha says, waving idly at him, “kids can handle a lot more than you think. Lila reading _Hunger Games_ at ten was fine.”

“I really think an action sci-fi comedy about an alien who saves the world by falling in love and a dystopian war story about children being forced to kill each other and starting a political uprising are two different things,” Laura says, rolling her eyes.

Once the movie is over, Nate asks if he can be excused. “I have a present for you, Mommy,” he says, “but it isn’t done yet. Can I go work on it?”

“Sure, baby. I’ll let you know when it’s lunchtime, okay?” Laura strokes his hair gently before he runs upstairs. “We’ll be down here if you need anything,” she calls. 

“They’re good kids,” Natasha says, smiling.

Laura chuckles. “Yeah, they’re turning out pretty okay. I think we’ll all be okay.” She sighs, long and a little shuddery. “You know, the first thing I thought when I woke up today was that he won’t be around to tease me about getting old anymore.”

Natasha reaches over to rest her hand on Laura’s back. “If you want to talk about him…”

“No.” Laura shakes her head and wipes her eyes. “I don’t want to focus on being sad today. I feel like he’d be pretty upset if I wasted a birthday moping around and missing him. Then again, he’d also be upset that I watched _The Fifth Element_ without him.”

“I thought he was jealous of Bruce Willis,” teases Natasha.

“He was, but apparently this movie is good enough for him to ignore that.” Laura rolls her eyes. “You know, he told me a thousand times I was the only person for him. Technically he could see other people too, but he just never wanted to date anybody else. Just me.”

Natasha’s mouth quirks. “Well, you are pretty amazing.”

“Oh, hush.” Laura bumps her shoulder against Natasha’s. “How about you? I know you said you didn’t have time for fun during the Snap, but you must’ve had somebody before that.”

“Kind of,” Natasha says, trying to think of the easiest way to explain Bruce. “You know Bruce Banner. We...we could have had something, I think. It didn’t work out, but if things had been different…” She shakes her head. “He’s a good man. He deserves to be happy.”

“So do you, Tasha.”

Natasha smiles wryly. “You don’t have to say that.”

“Yes I do,” Laura insists, “because no one else tells you that. Or not enough people, anyway. But it’s true, even if you don’t think so.”

Natasha’s not sure what to do with that. She takes a long sip from the glass of water in front of her and wishes it was something stronger. “Thank you,” she says finally.

Laura decides to work on a puzzle while Nate is upstairs. The puzzle is one of the tackiest things Natasha’s ever seen: a collage of pets dressed up as various iconic musicians. “It was a present from Clint,” Laura says, slightly defensive. “Who else is gonna own this except me?”

“That’s true,” Natasha says. “The audience for this is pretty much just lame dads and you.”

Laura giggles. “Wow! On my birthday? That seems uncalled for.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry, you’re not on the same level as lame dads at all.”

“I have better music taste than lame dads,” Laura replies haughtily. 

Eventually, Nate comes barreling back downstairs holding a piece of paper folded in half. “Happy birthday, Mommy,” he says, handing it to her. “What’s for lunch?”

Laura laughs. “Well, probably macaroni and cheese, I haven’t thought about it. Let me look at this first.” She unfolds the paper and stares at it for a long time, tears welling up in her eyes. Then she reaches up to wipe them away and says, “Thank you, Nate, I love it.”

Nate nods. “Good. Can I go get stuff out for lunch?”

“Yeah, go ahead. We’ll be there in a second.” Laura’s voice shakes a little and as soon as Nate’s dashed out of the room, she grabs the box of tissues and blows her nose. “I thought I had the random crying jags under control,” she half-jokes. “I guess not.”

Natasha gestures toward the picture. “May I?”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

Nate, like most four year olds, likes drawing and does it a lot. Natasha has no way of gauging whether a drawing a child did is “good,” because the only metric she has to judge by is the other Barton kids. That doesn’t really seem fair, given that Cooper’s grasp of human anatomy was absurdly advanced at an early age and he’s always taken it seriously, while Lila’s art has never been concerned with anything resembling reality. Nate’s drawing is cute: six people standing on a green line, clearly meant to represent the ground. The clothes are monochromatic blobs, the faces are all basically identical, and each figure is carefully labeled: Anty Nat, Mommy, Daddy, Cooper, Lila, and Me. Even if they hadn’t been labeled, it would’ve been pretty obvious who was supposed to be who based on the hair and clothes, but Natasha’s charmed anyway. At the top it says My Family in rainbow colors, bookended by big red hearts.

She’s not a sentimental person, but she feels a sudden lump in her throat anyway. 

In the picture, Laura’s in between her and Clint, and she’s holding hands with both of them. The kids are all holding hands too, so it’s probably just a coincidence, but it takes her by surprise all the same. She remembers, fleetingly, when Laura had called Cooper “our baby,” and how for just a second she had allowed herself to believe that. But then, she’s Auntie Nat now, and isn’t that good enough?

\---

Natasha ends up enlisting Cooper’s help when it comes time to make Laura’s birthday dinner.

“You don’t do this much, do you?” Cooper asks, grinning at her. 

“Don’t rub it in,” she grumbles. “I thought it would be a nice thing to do for your mom.”

“Oh, it is,” he agrees cheerfully. “She loves not having to cook. You’re just bad at it.”

“Hey, lasagna is complicated, okay?”

“Here,” he says, handing her a package of noodles. “You start boiling water for these and get the meat cooking, I’ll grate the cheese.”

“Don’t they make sliced cheese for this exact reason?”

“Yeah, but Mom likes it freshly grated. She says it glues everything together better.” Cooper gives her a funny look. “So what did you eat while everybody was gone, anyway? If you don’t cook?” 

Natasha shrugs. “Mostly peanut butter, to be honest. Other sandwiches. Stuff I could eat on the go, I dunno. I mostly didn’t have to worry about feeding anybody but me, and I’m not picky.”

“I guess that makes sense. But it seems kind of sad. Not like it’s sad to eat that stuff, but it’s sad to think of you all alone.”

Natasha restrains herself from saying something snarky like “that’s normal,” and instead just says, “Yeah, I missed you guys.”

“When did you find out we were gone?” Cooper asks, and it’s so unexpected that Natasha drops the pasta stirrer into the pot and has to grab a wooden spoon to dig it out of the water.

Once she’s retrieved the utensil, she says quickly, “Your dad called me. I was in Wakanda when it, um, happened and he left me a voicemail. He was pretty freaked out.”

“Oh.” Cooper stops grating cheese for a minute. “I hadn’t thought about that. We thought _he_ was the one who disappeared, but I guess...it was the other way around for him.”

“Yeah.” Natasha swallows hard and then focuses on stirring the ground beef, which is starting to brown. “He really loved you, you know,” she adds, then regrets it immediately. It’s not as if Cooper doesn’t know that.

“I know,” he says, and Natasha catches him swiping at his eyes with his hand before she turns back to the cooking meat.

As they cook, periodic yelps drift in from the TV room, where Lila and Nate are keeping Laura occupied with Mario Kart. Cooper pauses in his current task of frosting the cake to stage-whisper, “Mom’s not very good at Mario Kart.”

Natasha snorts. “No kidding. Is she good at any video games?”

“She’s kind of okay at some songs on Guitar Hero. Mostly ‘cause she likes pretending to be Joan Jett.”

“Yeah, that checks out.” Natasha goes to set out the fake flower arrangement.

By the time Natasha goes in to announce that dinner’s ready, Laura has apparently given up on the game and gone back to her puzzle. Nate and Lila are racing each other, both frantically pressing buttons. “It’s totally unfair that my four-year-old is better than I am at a video game,” sighs Laura good-naturedly. 

“Don’t worry,” Natasha says, grinning, “you’ve seen me play. I’m even worse.”

“Yeah, what’s up with that? Don’t you have an actual bike?” teases Laura. 

“It’s different. Anyway, dinner’s ready.”

“Hear that, kids? Last race!”

Lila glances over at Laura to acknowledge her with a nod, which is apparently all the opening Nate needed, because he throws a banana peel behind him and roars ahead. She smacks right into the peel and spins out, letting out a shriek of frustration as she ends up in fourth. “Are you kidding me?”

Nate grins as he crosses the finish line. “I win again!”

“I’m blaming Mom for that one,” pouts Lila. “She distracted me.”

“You can’t blame me for anything, it’s my birthday,” Laura says playfully, “but I’m sorry I distracted you and made you lose.”

Lila grumbles, but turns off the game and herds Nate out toward the kitchen. “Rematch later,” she growls at him. “I’m gonna kick your butt, I swear.”

He giggles. “No you aren’t!”

“C’mon,” Laura says to Natasha, rolling her eyes fondly. “She’s not great at losing. She gets that from...well, you know.” She bites her lip, clearly not-saying “Clint.”

“I do, yeah.”

When they get to the table, Natasha gestures to the flower arrangement. “That was me, and the lasagna was me and Cooper. I hope it’s okay.”

“We did the cake!” Lila says, as if she wants to be sure to get credit for it.

“Don’t worry, I remember.” Laura leans down to kiss the top of Lila’s head before sitting down. “Wow, this all looks amazing. Thank you, Tasha. Thank you, guys, that cake is beautiful.”

“Dodo’s recipe,” Cooper says, grinning.

“I don’t want any,” Lila adds. “I think lemon cake is gross. But that means more for you, Mom.”

“It sure does,” agrees Laura, serving herself some lasagna. “The flowers are cute, Tasha. Do they mean anything?”

Before Natasha can respond, Cooper and Lila have both pulled out their phones. “Common peony meanings include romance, prosperity, good fortune, a happy marriage, riches, honor, and compassion, but peonies can also mean bashfulness,” Cooper reads. 

“And sunflowers symbolize adoration, loyalty and longevity,” Lila adds.

“Yeah, I didn’t know any of that,” Natasha says with a shrug. “I just thought they looked nice.”

“Look what you’ve done to my peonies!” yelps Nate.

“Not in front of-”

“They’re marigolds!” Lila replies, interrupting Cooper (who was trying to head this off before the bit with the swearing, and who gives her a horrified look - she ignores him, having apparently decided that since Laura already knows about this, they can’t get in any more trouble for it).

“_Anyway_,” Laura says, opting to ignore them while they shriek the rest of the lines back and forth at each other, “they’re nice. Thank you, Tasha.” She reaches over to squeeze Natasha’s hand.

All Natasha can do is mumble “no problem” and shove a forkful of lasagna into her mouth.

\---

Later that night, after Nate’s tucked in bed and the other two have disappeared upstairs, Laura goes to pull out the whiskey. “I should maybe go to bed early,” she says cheerfully, “but fuck it, it’s my birthday.” 

“Damn right.” Natasha takes their water glasses to the kitchen sink to rinse them out. “Are we staying in here?”

“No, let’s go out to the back porch. It’s so nice out this evening.”

They sit in companionable silence on the porch’s weather-worn bench, just sipping their drinks, and then Laura says, “Thank you for dinner.”

“I’m just glad it was edible. I was telling Cooper earlier, I’ve mostly been living on sandwiches lately.”

“It was good.” Laura glances over at her and smiles. “You’re good to me, Tasha.”

Natasha scoffs. “What, for making you dinner? It’s the least I can do on your birthday.”

“No, that’s not what I meant. I meant that since Clint...you’ve been here, you’ve been taking care of all of us. Of me.” 

“Yeah, of course.” Natasha tries to keep her tone light. “You guys are like family to me, I wasn’t gonna throw you to the wolves just because Clint’s gone.”

“Right.” Laura laughs. It sounds a bit odd - nervous, maybe.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine.” She doesn’t sound fine, but Natasha’s not going to press. “Have you really not dated anyone in fourteen years?”

“I mean, I’ve slept with people, I guess. They were okay. But I didn’t really feel comfortable with any of them like I did with you.”

“Oh, Tasha.” The look on Laura’s face is almost unbearable. 

“I’m fine,” Natasha adds quickly, almost defensively. “I don’t really care too much about that. I was pretty busy anyway, y’know, saving the world and stuff. Who wants to date someone who might need to go stop an alien invasion in the middle of dinner?”

“I did,” Laura says quietly. “I do.”

Natasha freezes. She suddenly feels like if she even breathes too loudly the world will shatter around her.

“I’m sorry,” Laura adds. “That was too...I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Why not?” Natasha asks before she loses her nerve. Part of her is horrified, screaming _what kind of a monster tries to get with her dead best friend’s wife when he’s barely been dead for two months? _But another part, a louder, more insistent part, _wants_ this, wants Laura, in a way she hasn’t allowed herself to want in a very long time.

Laura laughs and shakes her head. “I shouldn’t...it’s just so complicated, Tasha. No one ever told me how to do this. I figured that we would just...but then he...and now you’re here, and I…” She stops and takes several deep breaths.

Natasha waits. 

Finally, after letting out one small noise that might be a sob, Laura seems to regain control of herself and says, “I’m sorry. I need to get a grip on myself, this is ridiculous.”

“You’re okay,” Natasha says, trying for soothing. She wants to reach out to comfort Laura, but she thinks touching her might be too much right now.

“I’m kind of not,” Laura replies, smiling ruefully. “I’m forty two, my husband’s dead, and my ex is staying with me because she’s the only person I trust to take care of me while I’m falling apart. Not that I think of you as an ex,” she adds, before Natasha can even react to that. “I guess technically you are but...you’re so much more than that to me, Tasha. You’re..._you_.”

“I’m definitely me,” Natasha says, trying for a light tone but sort of failing.

“And I miss him so much, god, I miss him every morning when I wake up and he’s not there next to me like he’s supposed to be, but you are, you’re there and you’re so strong and beautiful and I can’t…” Laura gulps and wipes at her eyes. “I don’t feel the way I’m supposed to feel, I’m not supposed to still love you but I _do_, Natasha, I do. I always have.”

Well, fuck. Natasha blinks at her, unable to look away. She’s carefully filed her feelings for Laura away since that Christmas, careful only to think of her as Clint’s wife, just Clint’s wife, just her friend, that’s all, that’s all she could ever be to Natasha. She’s Auntie Nat, she’s part of their family while still being outside of it, and that’s been fine. Except apparently it _hasn’t._

Laura looks as if she might start crying at any moment. “I’m sorry,” she whimpers. “I tried, I tried to just forget about it, ignore it, this isn’t right at all, it’s not...I shouldn’t feel…”

Natasha leans over and kisses her. 

She wasn’t planning on that. She was planning on saying something like “it’s okay” or “I understand” or maybe “do you want me to go?” But instead, she kisses Laura.

It’s not the best kiss ever. Laura tastes like tomato sauce and the whiskey they’ve been drinking, and since she wasn’t exactly expecting it it takes her a second to kiss Natasha back. Then Natasha comes to her senses and pulls away. Laura looks as shocked as she is, and Natasha swallows her rising panic and gasps “I’m sorry” because she doesn’t know what else to do. Then she gets up and runs like a hive of angry bees are at her heels. 

“Natasha!” she hears Laura call after her. She doesn’t look back and she doesn’t stop until she’s reached the trees at the edge of the Barton property. 

Then, she slows to a jog, then a walk, and finally comes to rest against a tree. So. Laura’s still in love with her, and her response to that was to kiss her. Shame prickles down her spine, making her want to climb out of her own skin. Sure, that’s the kind of thing that would happen in a romance novel, but she’s not _in_ a romance novel, and things like that can’t happen to her. They don’t make sense. That’s not how her life goes. 

She realizes, suddenly, that this is almost the exact spot that she came to all those years ago, when she broke up with Laura. There’s an almost unbearable cruelty in all of this happening now, so soon after Clint’s death. She’s become so used to ignoring her feelings, using them in more constructive ways when she can’t, and never allowing herself to think of Laura as anything but her best friend’s wife. And now...now her best friend is gone, and she’s still here, and she’s still in love with Laura Barton.

She sits there for awhile, and is just about to stand up and head back when she hears someone call, “Natasha?”

“I’m here.” There’s no point in hiding. She’s tired of hiding.

Laura comes to sit next to her, not quite touching. “Hey,” she says, her tone impossible for Natasha to read. “You gotta stop running away from me when you’re freaking out, okay? I’m an old lady now and I can’t go chasing you all over the woods.”

Natasha snorts. “You’re not old, Laur.”

“Well, I feel old.” Laura sighs. “So. I made an ass out of myself back there and I’m sorry for that.”

“What? No you didn’t. I kissed _you_, dummy.”

“Yeah, after I told you I loved you,” retorts Laura. “Like some idiot high schooler.”

“Oh, is that what idiot high schoolers do?” Natasha’s trying for light, but her tone can’t quite get there.

Laura ignores her and continues, “It’s not like you asked for any of this, having to emotionally support me and help take care of my kids while we’re all still grieving Clint. I don’t want you to feel like I’m forcing you to do anything.”

“Laura, like I said, I kissed _you_,” scoffs Natasha. “I’m the one that made it weird.”

Sighing, Laura replies, “Okay, fine, we both made it weird. It’s all pretty damn weird.”

Natasha laughs. “Well, that’s definitely true.” She pauses a moment, then adds, “So...we can never talk about this again if you want.” She hates this idea, hates thinking of this as just a drunken kiss that they both regret, but she’d rather gnaw off her own arm than upset Laura further.

“What do _you_ want?” Laura asks. 

It’s a warm night, but the question sends a chill through Natasha. “I…haven’t really had a chance to think about that lately.”

Laura snorts. It’s too dark for Natasha to see her roll her eyes, but she knows she is. “Well, I’m asking you now. What do you want, Natasha?”

_You._ Natasha bites her lip before the answer can slip out. “It’s...it’s complicated,” she stammers. “It’s so soon after Clint’s death, and you have the kids to think about, and I have my team, and I shouldn’t-”

“Natasha,” Laura interrupts, and her voice is so firm that it shocks Natasha into silence. “If things weren’t complicated, if you weren’t thinking about Clint, if the only thing you’re thinking about is you and me. What do you _want_?”

“I want…” Natasha swallows. “I want you.”

She feels Laura grab her hand gently. “Tasha,” she says. “Will you kiss me again? Please?”

So Natasha does. 

It’s much better than the earlier one. Laura still tastes like lasagna and whiskey, which isn’t the best combination, but her lips are soft and she’s kissing Natasha back this time and, _god_, she’s missed this. She’s missed Laura. She reaches up to cup Laura’s cheek in her hand and Laura wraps her arms around her waist and they just keep kissing for a minute, like nothing has changed in fifteen years. 

Of course, eventually she has to stop kissing Laura to breathe. When they break apart, Laura giggles. “Wow,” she says. “It’s been awhile since I had _that _kind of kiss.”

“Really?” Natasha asks, resting her forehead against Laura’s. “Then your idiot husband wasn’t doing his job, and if he were here I’d kick his ass.”

She worries for a second that the joke might be too much, but Laura leans back to laugh. “No, no, I just meant making out for a long time, that’s all. Even when Clint was here for longer than a few days we didn’t have a lot of time for, y’know.” 

“Are you saying the kids are nosy?” teases Natasha.

“That is _exactly_ what I’m saying,” says Laura with a snort. 

Natasha smiles. “You know, if Clint were here, he’d yell at us for being such boneheads. And not talking about our feelings and shit.”

“Oh my god, he would.” Laura shakes her head. “I don’t believe in ghosts, but I’d believe he stuck around as a ghost just to make sure we got back together.”

“I’ve never seen a man so excited about the idea of his best friend dating his wife,” agrees Natasha. “When he gave me your email, I think I looked at him like he had two heads. I just couldn’t imagine someone being okay with that.”

“He was special,” agrees Laura, and then sighs. “It’s sort of comforting that he’d be okay with this. With us.”

Natasha nods. “So...what are we, then?” She squeezes Laura’s hand. “I really meant that. I want to be with you, whatever the hell that means.” It gets a little less terrifying every time she says it.

“I don’t know what it means,” Laura says with a little chuckle. “But I know that I love you. We should talk about it. Probably back home, it’s dark out here.”

“Sorry.” Natasha leans in to give her another quick kiss. “I freaked out. I’ll work on that.” 

“It’s okay.” Laura turns to go, then looks back at Natasha. “C’mon, let’s go home.”

“Yeah,” agrees Natasha, warmth spreading through her. “And...I love you too.”

\---

When Natasha wakes the next morning, Laura’s there next to her, breathing deeply.

It takes her a moment to remember what happened the night before - the kissing, the confessions, and the subsequent long conversation they’d had before bed about where they’re going. It may not have been sexy, but it soothed Natasha in a way she can’t describe. Someone _wants_ to talk things through with her. Someone _wants_ to listen to her. It’s going to take her awhile to get used to that. 

Her reverie is interrupted by Laura, who wakes up with the grossest sounding snort-cough Natsaha’s ever heard and wipes the drool off of her lips with the back of her hand. “Hi,” Laura mumbles, blinking. “What time is it?”

“Just before six thirty,” Natasha says. “I figured I could feed the animals and let you all sleep in a little, since it’s Saturday.”

“That’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard,” Laura sighs, flopping back onto the pillow. “But don’t let me sleep past seven thirty, okay? We all have to eat too.”

“Fine,” Natasha says fondly, leaning down to kiss Laura’s cheek. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

She’s just returning to the house, animals fed and let out, when she runs into Lila, coming down the stairs. “Morning,” Lila grunts. “Is Mom up? I’m hungry.”

“I was about to get her.”

“Oh. Okay. Tell her I want eggs.”

“Bossy,” teases Natasha as she heads back toward Laura’s room. (Maybe it’s _their _room now, she realizes with a start.)

Laura’s still lying down when she comes in, but she grunts when Natasha gently pokes her shoulder. “I’m awake, I’m awake,” she groans, sitting up slowly. “Are my little darlings up?”

“Lila is, she asked for eggs. I’m sure the other two can’t be far behind.” Natasha shucks off her pajama pants and grabs a pair of jeans. “So...we’re telling them at breakfast? Or did you want to wait until later?”

“I think it’s better to do it sooner than later,” Laura says. “Plus the junior sleuth has already figured it out, I think. I keep catching him and Lila whispering about something when they think I’m not listening, and I don’t think it was just my birthday.”

Natasha snorts. “Coop definitely knows. He asked me about it, the little shit.”

“Oh my god.” Laura collapses into giggles. “I mean, I’m sorry, he shouldn’t be asking you that, but I can’t believe the kids figured our shit out before we did.”

“They’re too smart for their own good,” agrees Natasha. Then she adds, “So you think they’ll be okay with it?”

Laura comes over to put her arms around Natasha. “They love you,” she reminds her. “And we’re taking it slow, so they’ll have time to get used to it.”

Natasha purses her lips. “I hope you’re right.”

Downstairs, Cooper is pouring Nate some orange juice while Lila stares at the toaster intently. “A watched toaster never toasts,” Laura jokes, which makes her daughter jump. “Sorry,” she adds quickly. “Didn’t mean to startle you, honey.”

Lila shrugs. “I’m really hungry. Can you make eggs?”

“Alright, you poor deprived child, I’ll make your eggs.” Laura goes over to give her a quick tight hug, which makes Lila smile, before grabbing the eggs out of the fridge. “Tasha, will you get some waffle batter started?”

“What’s going on?” Cooper asks, raising both eyebrows. “You only make waffles when something important is going on.”

Laura tries to brush it off with a “psh.” “Can’t I spoil my darling children a little?”

“No,” Lila says. “That’s even more suspicious, Mom. What’s happening? Is somebody else dead?” She smiles, so they’ll know she’s joking, even though it isn’t really funny and nobody laughs.

“God, no, Li. Everything is fine, I promise.” Laura glances at Natasha, who just shrugs. “It’s…we’ll tell you once the food is ready.”

“We?” Cooper looks even more suspicious. “We who, you and Auntie Nat?” Then his eyes widen. “Holy shit!”

Natasha sighs. “I think the jig’s up, Laur.”

“Coop, don’t swear,” scolds Laura. “And just wait, I’ll explain everything in a few minutes.”

Cooper sits down and does something on his phone, looking extremely smug. Lila’s phone buzzes and she checks it, then glares at Cooper and sticks out her tongue at him. He just keeps smirking.

“Auntie Nat?” Nate asks, looking worried. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I promise,” Natasha says, coming over to give him a fistbump that she hopes is reassurring. He doesn’t look convinced, but he nods.

Once Laura brings Lila’s plate of eggs and a stack of fluffy golden waffles to the table, Cooper looks expectantly at the two adults. “So?” he says. “What’s going on, Mom? Auntie Nat?”

Laura sighs. “Well, I think at least two of you have already figured it out, but we don’t want to keep secrets from you. Natasha and I have decided that we want to try dating each other.”

There’s a moment of silence while everyone absorbs the news, then Cooper pumps both fists in the air and yelps, “I knew it!” Then he points gleefully at Lila. “You have to do all my chores for _two whole weeks_!”

“Dammit!” Lila grunts. “No fair! They were taking _forever_ to do anything!”

“I knew it would happen on Mom’s birthday,” Cooper says, with the air of a practiced sleuth. “Because she always has a drink after we go to bed on her birthday. Alcohol makes people talk about their feelings. I figured she would say something if Auntie Nat didn’t.”

Laura looks horrified. “Were you guys..._betting_ on this?”

“Just betting chores,” Cooper adds quickly. “It’s not real money.”

“It was his idea,” Lila says at the same time Nate yelps, “Why can’t I bet too!”

“Jesus Christ,” groans Laura, putting her head in her hands.

Natasha glances around the table, bemused. “So all three of you knew then?”

“He figured it out first,” says Lila, as if she thinks maybe Cooper will get in the most trouble for knowing. “And he asked me about it, and I said yeah that makes sense, and then he said do you wanna bet on when they’ll get together, and I said okay.”

“Does this mean you don’t love Daddy any more?” Nate asks. He’s pouting a little, like he’s not sure whether he should be crying or not.

“Oh baby, no,” Laura says. “I’ll always love your Daddy. But...well, sometimes you get very lucky and fall in love with more than one person. And sometimes they love you back. I love your Daddy and I love Auntie Nat, and it doesn’t mean I love either of them any less. It’s like how I can love both you and your brother and sister at once.”

He blinks. “Oh.”

“Polyamory,” Lila says, nodding sagely. “I know all about that. I read a lot of stories where Katniss and Peeta and Gale were all in love.”

“What?” Cooper gives her a funny look. “But Peeta and Gale hate each other!”

“Not in these stories, they didn’t,” Lila says with a shrug. “Some of them were pretty good.”

“_Anyway_,” Laura says quickly. “It’s okay if you guys have questions or if you want to go be alone to think for awhile. We know this is a big change.”

Nate, looking very overwhelmed, nods and then signs “bedroom.” 

“Go ahead,” Laura nods. “I’ll come knock on your door in a little while, okay?” Nate nods and darts upstairs. 

“I have a question,” Lila says. “How long has this been going on? Did Dad know? Were you dating before you married Dad? I wanna know everything, except the sex stuff, you can leave that out.”

“Gross,” Cooper says, making a face. “Please don’t say ‘sex stuff’ about Mom and Auntie Nat ever again.” Then he looks stricken. “Should I call you that anymore? What should I call you instead?”

“Auntie Nat is fine,” Natasha says, smiling. “And your dad was actually the one who introduced us. You guys know I didn’t always work for SHIELD, and how he helped me escape the Red Room.” They nod. “Well, the first Christmas after I joined SHIELD, he invited me to come over. He didn’t want me to be alone during the holidays. He and your mom had been married for a couple years at that point.”

“Dad called me a couple of weeks before Christmas and he said he was bringing her with him,” Laura continues. “And he said, and I’ve never forgotten this, he said, ‘Laura, we gotta make her a stocking, she’s never had a Christmas stocking before and it’s the saddest shit I’ve ever heard.’”

Both kids snicker at the swear, and Cooper says, “Yeah, that sounds like Dad.”

“And he walked in here on Christmas Eve,” says Laura, “and with him was this skinny redheaded girl who sized everything up like a feral cat. I asked if she wanted a hug and she looked like nobody had ever asked her that before, and then she made a joke about how uncool your dad was and that’s when I knew we were gonna get along.”

“I remember that,” Natasha says. “You were so...kind. It was unexpected.”

Laura smiles over at her. “You needed it. You still need it.”

“So,” Lila says loudly, “what happened and how did you start dating?”

“Well, your dad pestered me into emailing your mom, and that’s how we really started talking…”

\---

About an half an hour later, Laura goes up to check on Nate. “He’s okay,” she says, returning after a few minutes. “He wants to talk to you, Tasha.”

“Me?” Natasha frowns. “Okay.”

She goes up and taps on Nate’s door, waiting until she hears a little “come in” to enter. “Hey, nugget,” she says, sitting cross-legged on the floor near him. He’s hugging Swiftwind and staring at his bookshelf. 

“Hi,” he says, not looking at her. That’s okay, she’s used to that.

“Your mom said you wanted to talk to me?”

“Yeah.” He’s petting Swiftwind’s mane, over and over, slowly. “I dunno if I want another mom. I miss Daddy.”

“You and me both, kid,” she says gently. “I’m definitely not replacing your dad, okay? And it’s okay, I’m still Auntie Nat. The only thing that’s gonna change is I might be around a little more.”

“Okay,” he says. “Are you and Mommy getting married?”

That’s unexpected enough that it makes her laugh. “I don’t know. Maybe someday, but not for a long time. I don’t know if I want to get married to anybody, even though I love your mom a lot.”

“Okay.” He sounds slightly more chipper. “I hated that suit I wore to Daddy’s funeral. I don’t want to wear it to your wedding, okay? Can you promise?”

“I promise if we get married you won’t have to wear a suit,” she says, and means it.

Then he stands up and goes over to grab a book off the shelf. “Read it?” he asks, settling himself next to her.

It’s _Ferdinand. _Of course it’s _Ferdinand._ Natasha bites back a chuckle and nods, opening the book. “Once upon a time in Spain there was a little bull and his name was Ferdinand.”

\---

Natasha deliberates for a couple of days whether to tell the team that she’ll be staying with the Bartons another month via email or group chat. She finally settles on an email for Fury and the group chat for the others. 

Her email to Fury is brief, factual and a statement, not a request. 

_Fury,_

_I’ll need another month here at the Bartons’. Everyone is doing okay here, but Laura needs my support. Don’t call me unless there’s a real emergency. _

_-N_

He reads between the lines (she knew he would) and replies _take all the time you need, Romanoff, you’ve more than earned it. Take care of Laura. She’s special. _She doesn’t bother to respond to that; there’s no reason to and it would just make him more smug.

The group chat is another matter.

_Nat: hey guys, heads up, I won’t be back for another month. Laura and the kids still need me here_

_Sam: yeah I bet she does [eyes emoji]_

_Nat: no comment, Wilson_

_Scott: wait Sam what does that mean???_

_Wanda: nothing, Scott_

_Scott: “nothing” means it’s SOMETHING!!_

_Nat: logging off now. See you all in a month_

_Scott: WAIT DID YOU BONE CLINT’S WIFE_

_Wanda: does anyone want to see a picture of a nice cat I saw earlier today?_

_Hope: no, I want to hear more about Natasha boning Clint’s wife_

_Hope: like not in a weird way_

_Hope: I don’t need details, but did you?_

_Sam: she SO DID_

_Natasha: you are all disgusting_

_Natasha: see if I invite you to the wedding >:)_

_Natasha: bye_

_Wanda: wait, wedding? Nat, come back and explain_

_Sam: oh shit there’s a wedding now?_

_Scott: can I be your best man?????? I LOVE WEDDINGS_

_Rhodey: great job guys, you scared her off._

_Sam: Scott I’ll arm wrestle you for best man duties?_

\---

During the next month, Natasha learns some new things.

She learns that being the little spoon sometimes is really nice. She learns how it feels to stand still in the shower and let someone else massage shampoo into her hair. She learns that Laura still likes it when she’s on top. She learns that she likes how quiet the house is when the four of them go to grief counseling, but she likes it even more when they come home.

She learns that Lila whines for five minutes before she goes out to chop wood, but that after the two weeks are up she asks to keep doing it, because apparently it’s great for her arms. (After Lila gets another bullseye, she asks Natasha to take her to Clint’s grave to leave it there. Natasha takes a picture for Laura, who only cries a little when Natasha shows it to her.) 

She learns that Cooper has a crush on a girl in his class named Valeria, who is apparently tall and blonde and terrifying in an interesting way. (Her parents are scientists, Cooper says, which means she knows much more than most fourteen-year-olds and isn’t shy about letting people know that. Natasha doesn’t give him a hard time about it, just listens when he goes on and on about her.) 

And she learns that Nate’s definitely memorized _Ferdinand_ and doesn’t need her to read it. (She learns this when he scolds her for accidentally missing a word. “It’s ‘she let him _just_ sit there and be happy,’” he insists. “You forgot ‘just.’” 

That makes her laugh and ask, “Do I even need to read this to you or could you just recite it?” 

“Yes,” he insists. “You read it. It’s better when you read it.”)

She learns the funny little personality quirks of some of the hens, which ones are most at risk of getting broody if they aren’t watched carefully, and how Zeus has different noises for them than for humans. She learns which plants Pete 2 can eat and which they need to pull up right away because they’re dangerous. 

She learns how to be a part of this family in a way she hasn’t let herself be before.

\---

She and Sam have a spirited debate on the phone about the best way to get her back to New York, finally settling on him driving out to get her. “We could really go all-out for you, send a Quinjet, but that seems like overkill,” he teases. 

“Wow,” she snorts. “I’m glad to know I’m so important to you.”

“You are,” he says, and he sounds more serious than before. “We missed you, Romanoff. You doing okay?”

“Yeah,” she says after thinking a moment. “I’m great, actually.”

“And Laura?” She can hear the smirk in his voice. “You know you’re gonna have to tell me what the hell happened at some point.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she says, rolling her eyes even though he can’t see it. “I know you’re all _dying_ to hear about my love life.”

“Hey, I’ve been trying to get the others off your ass! They gossip like a bunch of church ladies, it’s ridiculous.”

She sighs, although she’s not really that bothered. It’s kind of sweet that they care. “Well, good to know. I’ll see you in a week, Sam.”

“See you, Nat.”

The day before she’s supposed to leave for New York, she pulls Laura into their bedroom. “So I have something for you,” she says, a little embarrassed. “It’s kind of silly, but I thought...well, open it.” She pulls a little box out of her pocket and passes it to Laura.

Laura raises an eyebrow. “I’m gonna assume this isn’t a proposal?”

“Jesus Christ, no,” Natasha laughs. “Just open it, okay?”

Laura does, and she smiles. “I should’ve known,” she says, pulling out the silver necklace with a little black spider charm on it. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to,” Natasha adds quickly .”I just thought-” 

Laura cuts her off with a kiss. “I’m wearing it,” she says, reaching up to fasten it around her neck. “It’ll be like having a little bit of you with me.”

“It sounds so cheesy when you say it,” Natasha groans. 

“_You’re _cheesy, Tasha,” teases Laura, kissing her again. “But I love that about you.”

Natasha grins. “I am not.”

“You are.” And before Natasha can respond, Laura’s heading out into the hallway. “I’m going to start dinner.”

\---

The morning she’s supposed to leave, Lila finishes her breakfast and gives Natasha a long hug before saying, “I’m gonna go practice.”

“Okay.” Natasha smiles. “See you later, raptor.”

“Bye,” she calls, doing the salute as she goes. Natasha doesn’t blame her for not wanting to stick around for the real goodbye. 

“So you’re coming back for Christmas, right?” Cooper asks. “And you’re calling us on Lila’s birthday? It’s November seventeenth.”

“Of course. Don’t worry, you’re gonna hear from me so much that it’ll be like I never left.” Natasha winks at him. “You’ll get sick of me.”

“Nuh uh,” he says, shaking his head. Then he stands up and comes over to give her a quick hug. “I’m going to go upstairs,” he says, taking his dishes to the sink.

“Bye, Coop,” says Natasha as he goes up the stairs.

Nate brought Swiftwind to the table this morning, and even though he’s technically not supposed to (the unicorn’s only technically machine-washable, and Laura’s worried about food spills) nobody’s said anything. “Hey, Nate,” Natasha says. “I want you to draw me a picture every week, okay? Laura can send them to me. Anything you want to draw.”

Nate nods. “Okay.” 

“Thanks.” She offers her fist to bump, and he bumps it. Then she glances at the clock.

Laura does the same. Sam should be arriving soon. “Nate,” she says, “how about you go get some pillows and blankets together? I think we should make a fort.”

Nate nods and, grabbing Swiftwind, heads for the living room. 

“Oh man,” teases Natasha, “you’re making a fort without me? I’m feeling a little left out, Laur.”

“Shut up,” Laura says fondly, but there are tears in her eyes. “I just thought it’d be something nice to focus on after…” She swallows. “I mean, it’s not that long until Christmas.”

“Yeah. And like I told Cooper, you’ll get sick of hearing from me. I figure we can start emailing again, it’ll be like old times.”

Laura laughs, but it kind of sounds like a sob. “Yeah. I’m…” She pauses to swallow hard. “I’ll be okay. After all, it’s not the first time I’ve done this.” Her smile wobbles a little. “How about you, how are you doing?”

Natasha shrugs. “I mean, I’m gonna miss the shit out of all of you, obviously. And I guess the team’s been gossiping about me. Don’t worry, I won’t share any of the gory details with them.”

That makes Laura laugh for real. “You can tell them whatever you want. I trust you.”

“I know.” Natasha leans in for a quick kiss. “But I don’t want them to know too much. It’ll mess with my aura of mystery.”

“Oh god,” groans Laura. “I should stop dating SHIELD agents, you’re all the same. You think you’re so cool.”

“No, I _know_ it.”

Then they hear the car pulling into the driveway. 

“Here we go,” Natasha says, trying to sound cheerful. 

When Sam knocks on the door, Nate comes flying out of the other room, clutching a pillow that’s almost as big as he is. “Hi!” he says to Sam. “We’re building a fort.”

“Wow,” Sam says, kneeling down to give him a fistbump (which makes him drop the cushion, but he doesn’t seem to mind). “That’s pretty cool. Wish I could stay and help, but unfortunately your Auntie Nat and I have gotta go back to work pretty soon.”

“I know,” Nate says. Then he runs over to give Natasha another fist bump. “Bye.”

“Bye, Nate,” she says, watching him run away again with a fond smile. “Hey, Sam.”

“Hey,” he says, giving Laura a quick hug hello. “You ready to head out pretty soon?”

“Yeah. C’mon, Laur, help me get my stuff in the car.”

“Here.” Sam tosses her the keys. “Actually, I’m gonna use the restroom real quick. Down the hall, right?”

“Yep,” Laura says. Natasha knows exactly what he’s doing, and she honestly appreciates it. She didn’t really want to say goodbye in front of him anyway.

They go out to the car, both quiet. Once Natasha’s bag is in the trunk, she turns to Laura. “So.”

“So.” Laura smiles. “Thank you for, y’know, everything. That’s an understatement.”

“I know,” Natasha says. “Thank you, Laura. It’s been...really nice.” Also an understatement.

“Yeah.” Laura fiddles with her fingers a little. “We’ll see you at Christmas.”

“Yeah.” Natasha pulls her close and kisses her, at first gently and then less gently. “I’ll be back soon.”

“I know.” Laura hugs her, so tightly it’s almost uncomfortable. “I love you, Tasha.”

“I love you too.” That’s gotten easier to say the more she says it. 

When they finally separate, Laura’s pretending she’s not crying. “Okay,” she says, “I’d better go back inside and help Nate build that fort.”

“Send me a picture?”

“I will.” Laura swipes at her eyes and then smiles. “Okay, bye, Tasha.”

“Bye.” Natasha watches her go back inside, then gets in the car and waits until Sam comes out.

“Hey,” he says. “Did I miss the waterworks?”

“There weren’t that many,” she scoffs. “And you’re nosy.”

“Damn right,” he says, going around to the driver’s side. “So, okay, how much do you wanna tell me on the drive back?”

“I’m not sure yet,” she says lightly, buckling her seatbelt. “Depends on how many annoying questions you ask.”

“Alright, alright.” He starts the car and pulls out of the driveway. “No more annoying questions, I promise.”

Natasha just stares out the window for a minute, taking in the scenery she’s seen a hundred times over the years. Finally she says, “If Clint knew what was going on, he’d never stop gloating.”

Sam raises both eyebrows but says nothing. 

“It’s really his fault,” she continues. “Micromanaging bastard didn’t want me to be alone for the holidays, so he asked me over to his house for my first Christmas here…”

\---

After the initial flurry of attention and questions, the rest of the team leaves her alone to settle back into the base. Her (intentionally sparse) room’s been left untouched, aside from dusting. Sam insists that she have a day or so to adjust, even though there’s _something_ going on upstate that he won’t tell her about (he insists they can handle it). She half-heartedly argues before stretching out on her bed, grabbing her phone. Maybe she’ll go train a bit later. 

She checks her email sort of absently, expecting there to be a ton. There are, but the most recent one is from Laura and just has the subject “Hi.”

She opens it, to find a picture of the four of them crammed into an undersized but adorable pillow fort and a short message from Laura.

_Tasha,_

_I didn’t want to get all sappy in front of Sam or the kids, but I did want to say this: you mean the world to me. I know Clint would be grateful for all you’ve done for us. Thank you for being there for me these last couple months. I hope I was there for you the same way. I know feelings are still weird for you, but I’m glad you feel safe expressing them to me. I’m so glad you’re part of our family. I love you. The kids love and miss you too. Nate says he wants to make another fort when you’re here for Christmas and he wants you to bring more pillows and blankets for it._

_-L_

Natasha writes back:

_I can raid SHIELD’s bedding supply, so we’ll have a kickass pillow fort next time. Don’t tell Nate, it’ll be a surprise. And I love you too._


End file.
